


Wild Hunters

by Lyds and Ally (thunderandlightning)



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Crossdressing, F/M, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Multi, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderandlightning/pseuds/Lyds%20and%20Ally
Summary: After being kidnapped by Kate Argent, Allison and Stiles decide that they're best friends for life.





	1. Chapter 1

Dean had been careful, but insistent that he get the room beside Gerard Argent’s, in the hotel where he was keeping the kidnapped preteens. He knew better than to hope for an adjoining door, but he was relieved when he saw that he had one, after all. He sat down, cleaning his guns and listening to the tv through the wall. From time to time, he would hear the boy ask for something, and though he couldn’t hear what Gerard said in response, he knew that the boy wasn’t getting anything he wanted. Dean was doing his best to ignore how familiar that was. With every denied request in the room beside his, he was becoming more resolved to fix the situation that wasn’t actually any business of his and would only get him flagged by hunters and cops, alike. He heard the door open and a bitter old man voice, telling the kids not to even think of leaving the room, that he would find them again. Dean waited until the footsteps receded and the elevator whirred to life before he moved, knocking on the adjoining door. “Hey. My name is Dean.” He called out. “This can go one of two ways.” He said calmly. “You let me in, I’ll get you both out of here. Otherwise, you’re stuck with Grandpa Simpson and that’s really not a good option.” He had barely finished speaking before the door was being yanked open and a ten year old boy with light brown eyes stared up at him, his expression equally hopeful and skeptical. 

“If you get your hand anywhere near my penis or my butt, I’m going to stab you in your sleep.” The boy warned. 

Dean snorted, but he nodded. “Good thing I don’t have any interest in doin’ that, then.” His gaze went to the girl, further in the room. “Are you coming, too?” 

The girl looked up at him with a wobbly lower lip, nodding as she slowly followed the boy. She opened her mouth to say something, and a shaky sob escaped a second later, leaving her looking mortified. 

Dean ushered both kids into his room, locking the adjoining door in both rooms and grabbing his weapons bag. He hadn’t even bothered bringing in his clothes, determined not to stay too long. “Wherever he went, it was downstairs, in the elevator. We’re takin’ the stairs and you’ve got to be quiet, got it?” 

“Hey, as long as the first place you take us is the police station, I’ll be silent the whole time. I’ll - shut up now.” The boy muttered. 

The girl reached a hand out tentatively, wrapping one finger around the boy’s. “It’ll… it’ll be okay.” She said softly, her voice breaking. 

Dean led the kids to the stairwell, taking them down six flights. He could hear commotion when they got to the first floor, and he mimed zipping his lips before he hurried them into the courtyard, then to the parking lot. He felt like he hadn’t even taken a breath by the time he got to the Impala, stashing the weapons bag in the trunk and leaving as soon as both kids were in the car. “You both good?” He asked, glancing in the rearview mirror at them. 

The girl curled up against the door, resting her head against the window. She peered at Dean and nodded her head hesitantly. She was okay physically. Mentally was another matter. 

“Gerard says my parents are dead. Her parents, too.” The boy gestured to the girl. “So yeah, I don’t know - “ He sniffled, shaking his head. “I don’t think I want to go to foster care. Better than being sold, though.” 

The girl rubbed at her eyes, sniffling. “I want to go home.” She said softly. “I want my mom and dad.” She trailed off, staring out the window. “But they’re gone. I don’t want to go to foster care, either.”

Dean sighed, knowing he was risking a lot in what he was about to do. “Okay, listen. First, we’re going to get something to eat. Then we’re going to talk. I wanna make sure that he wasn’t just lyin’ to you. If your parents really are dead, I’ll figure something out for both of you. If they’re alive, I’ll get you home. It’d help me out to know your names.” 

The girl looked over at the boy warily, a questioning expression on her face. After a moment, she said softly, “Allison.”

“I’m Stiles.” The boy added. “But that’s not my real name, it’s a nickname. My real first name is kinda hard to say and spell, so I’d probably be better off just writing it down.” 

Allison looked over at him. “Maybe you’re better off leaving it at just Stiles?” She admitted. She was grateful to the older man for rescuing them - she hadn’t been around Gerard since she was three, but at eleven years old, he was absolutely terrifying to her. Even so, she wasn’t sure she wholly trusted Dean, and her parents’ lessons to not trust strange people stuck out in her mind. She wished they had mentioned not trusting creepy family members, too. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles muttered. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because that asshole is lying and my dad’s alive. I know he is.” 

Dean got one of his cell phones from the seat beside his, holding it out to the kids. “Go ahead and call your parents. Just your parents, got it? No nine-one-one or any shit like that. I’ll get you both home, I promise you that, but you can’t make a phone call to anyone but your parents. If they’re alive, obviously, they’re gonna answer.” 

Allison scrambled for the phone, staring at it for a moment before she sighed and held it out to Stiles. “Call yours first. I can wait.”

Stiles sighed shakily and took the phone from Allison. He bit his lip, staring at the buttons. “If I call, and they’re dead, that’s going to suck.” He whispered. “But - if I don’t call, and they’re dead, at least then I could still think they were alive, right? I don’t know what to do.” 

Allison shook her head. “I don’t know, either.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to think about my parents being dead. I think - I want to think - that Gerard was lying. But I’m terrified he wasn’t. So… what if we just… pretend they’re okay, for now?” She swallowed. “They’re okay and they’re looking for us.”

Dean parked by a diner and got out, waiting for the kids to get out. “You’ll feel better after you eat real food, not whatever crap you were gettin’ from a vending machine.” 

“You mean the fat lot of nothing?” Allison asked, sliding out of the back and looking up at him. “Gerard wasn’t feeding us anything. He just kept giving us bottles of water.”

“How long were you with him?” Dean looked horrified. 

“Well, it’s not that he _never_ fed us.” Stiles explained. “Because we’ve been stuck with his stupid ass for about five months now, and we’d be dead. But for the last few days, no food. Just water.” 

Dean scowled. “Son of a bitch.” He shook his head. “Okay, we’re gonna be here awhile.” He opened the diner door for them and asked the waitress to just bring them cheeseburgers, fries, and chocolate milkshakes when she came by. It didn’t even occur to him to try to flirt his way to a free meal until she was gone, and it was too late. 

Allison kicked her feet a little as she sat down, looking around the diner curiously. Her stomach rumbled, and it hurt. She pressed her hand against it, knowing it was only the good kind of hurt, the kind that meant she knew she was about to be fed, but it was still painful. 

Stiles sat down beside her, feeling his fear fade and his hope grow a little stronger as he watched Dean. “How come you saved us?” He made a face. “Wait, my mom always said not to say it like that. _Why_ did you save us? Nobody else did.” 

Dean shook his head, laughing softly. “I’m not like everybody else, kiddo.” 

Allison ducked her head, smiling a little. “Thanks for not being like everybody else.”

“Yeah, thank you.” Stiles blurted, his eyes wide. “I should’ve probably started with that.” He sat up on his knees when the milkshakes were brought out, greedily attacking his and drinking half of it without stopping to take a breath. He sat back, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead when he got brain freeze. 

Allison giggled quietly, reaching for her own milkshake with two hands. She sipped at it carefully and then pushed it back a little to look up at Dean. “So… I know Stiles asked why you saved us, but… how did you hear about us? How did you know where to find us? Was it just through Gerard’s stupid plan to sell us?”

“Actually, yeah.” Dean admitted, looking sheepish. “I know a lot of people, ‘cause I was raised like this. Hunting. But I’m not like your grandpa. I don’t actively look for werewolves or anything. If I see something in the paper that’s obvious, I go after it.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But from what I’ve heard, the Hales didn’t do anything to anybody. And you two didn’t have shit to do with it, so you never should’ve been taken out of there.” 

“It was my aunt’s fault.” Allison said softly. “She’s the one who set the fire. And she took me and Stiles for coll - collater - she took us to hold it over our parents’ heads, so they wouldn’t do anything to her.” She looked down. “She left us with Gerard after that.”

Dean shifted his weight as he leaned forward, then sat back, not sure what to do. “I don’t know if it’s the right thing, tellin’ you this.” He began, licking his lips nervously. “But she died. I guess one of the Hales did it. Sounds like your families have some kind of Hatfield and McCoy thing going on? But she was going to burn them alive and some of them weren’t even werewolves. Not that the ones who were earned it, anyway.” 

“How old are you?” Stiles gave the waitress a wary look when she set their plates down, but she smiled sweetly at him and walked away, so he turned his attention back toward Dean. 

“I’m twenty-six.” Dean smiled. “Why’s that matter?” 

“Because you’re by yourself.” Stiles pointed out. “And you do this kind of stuff? But what if somebody hurt you?” 

Dean shrugged again. “That’s the life. It happens to everybody, eventually.” 

Allison shook her head. “Even I know you’re too young to say stuff like that.” She murmured. “You should have someone with you.”

“Allison’s dad is a hunter.” Stiles blurted. “You could see if he’d help you. I mean, if he’s... if...” 

Dean held a hand up to stop him, but snorted when he was ignored. 

“Seriously, just take us back to Beacon Hills.” Stiles demanded. “And if our parents are alive, then you can ask Allison’s dad to work with you on stuff. And if they’re not, then... then you can train us. Because I think if I become a hunter, I could stop other hunters. I’d know that they were planning to do something bad, and I could warn people. Or save them. Like you did for us.” 

Allison was quiet, studying her hands and the tabletop before looking at Stiles. “I want to help.” She said. “I want - I don’t want to be like Kate and Gerard. I don’t ever want to hurt innocent people, I just want to help them and protect them. I just want to - to be good. A good hunter.”

“Then after you finish your food - and don’t rush through it, that’ll be somethin’ you regret later - we’ll go to Beacon Hills.” Dean nodded. “Okay?” 

Allison nodded back at him. “Okay.” She agreed, reaching for her burger and taking a huge bite. 

**

Dean pulled into a gas station in Beacon Hills, two days later. He was exhausted, but he was also relieved that he had gotten the kids back to their town. He thought about just dropping them off at the police station and leaving town before he got charged with something. Small town cops loved that sort of thing. But he hated the idea of abandoning them and not knowing that they were safe. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but they had grown on him already. 

Allison peered out of the Impala’s back window, and then tugged shyly at Dean’s sleeve. “Can we get snacks?” She asked hopefully. “I know we’re - gonna see our parents soon, but my mom is sort of against salty and sugary stuff so I kind of want to eat as much as I can before she tries to confiscate everything.”

Dean didn’t have the heart to remind her that she might find out that she was an orphan. Instead, he grinned at her. “Yeah.” He looked at Stiles. “And I’m guessin’ you want Reese’s?” 

“Yes!” Stiles nodded. “Please?” 

Dean laughed and went into the gas station to pay for the gas and buy something for the kids to eat. He tossed the bag to them, through the open window, then got in and pulled into a different parking spot, giving them time to eat. 

Allison looked delighted, digging into the bag. “Thanks, Dean.” She curled up in her seat, leaning against Stiles’ side with a sigh. She was thrilled to be back in Beacon Hills, surprisingly; she just prayed that Gerard _had_ been lying about their parents. She’d missed her dad a lot. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Dean, though. 

Stiles smiled at Allison as he bit into one of the peanut butter cups. He was trying not to freak out at the idea of his dad really being dead, but at least after today, he would know.

Allison looked over at him and smiled back shakily. “Do you think they’re okay?” She asked softly. 

“I don’t know.” Stiles shook his head. “If I say yes, and they’re not, I’ll feel bad. If I say no, and they are, then I’m the asshole who said they were probably all dead.” 

Allison swallowed, reaching out to take his hand. She squeezed it gently. “I guess we’ll see soon enough.”

Stiles held Allison’s hand and nodded at her, too overwhelmed to say anything else as Dean started the car. He stayed silent, keeping his hand in hers, even as he ate the other piece of candy. 

Dean parked in the police station lot and twisted around in his seat to look at Allison and Stiles. “Okay, listen. I’ve been puttin’ off saying this, but I can’t go in there with you. I’m not as bad as other hunters, but that doesn’t mean I’ve got a clean record. I’ll stay right here, and I’ll wait while you go in. If I don’t see either of you in ten minutes... I’m going.” 

Allison swallowed hard. “Can we still keep in touch with you, though?” She asked hopefully. 

“Yeah. I know you have my phone numbers. All of ‘em.” Dean smiled. “Call me if you ever need help with anything.” 

Stiles practically launched himself over the seat to hug Dean. “Thank you!” He blurted. 

Allison squeezed herself past Stiles and into Dean’s space to hug him, too, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re the best ever.” She told him softly, her voice muffled. “Don’t travel alone. Please.”

“Yeah, just stay here for a couple more days!” Stiles pleaded. “At least one. Even if our dads and her mom are okay, you know? Just wait here, I’ll go see.” He scrambled to get out of the car, running across the lot and into the building. 

One of the deputies spotted Stiles and let out a surprised gasp before calling for the Sheriff. John, his back turned toward the entrance, looked up toward the deputy, and then followed their gaze until his eyes locked on his son. He let out a choked, disbelieving noise, and promptly dropped his coffee cup, rushing toward the boy. “Stiles!”

“Oh, thank god!” Stiles blurted, then burst into tears. 

John skidded to a halt in front of Stiles and dragged the boy into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, I’m never letting you go.” He whispered, pressing kisses to Stiles’ forehead and hair. “I love you so much. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all? Do you need anything, do you need water? What about the Argent girl, is she with you? Oh my god, Stiles, I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“She’s with me, yeah.” Stiles hugged his dad, sighing. “I’m okay. This guy got me and Ally out of there safely and he’s been taking care of us for a few days, while he was driving us back here. But he says he’s gotten into trouble for other stuff, and he doesn’t wanna come in here. Just come thank him, okay? And don’t bug him?” 

“Bug him?” John repeated, looking dumbfounded. “Stiles, I kind of want to give the guy a medal.” He pulled away from his son, but just barely, running his hands gently over his son’s face and hair. He smiled down at the ten year old. “Come on, kiddo.” He stood, and then reached a hand out for Stiles’ hand, squeezing gently. 

Stiles walked back outside with his dad. “Just hold on.” He blurted, then ran over to the Impala to tell Dean that it would be okay. 

Allison sat up in the backseat, looking excited and terrified at the same time as she peered out the window at Stiles. Her eyes drifted to the Sheriff, and she couldn’t help wishing that her parents were there, too. She’d see them soon enough. 

John approached the vehicle slowly, giving Stiles enough time to talk to the gruff looking man in the driver’s seat. Normally the sight of someone like that around his ten year old child and an eleven year old girl would raise his hackles in an instant, but he was so relieved that Stiles was back at all that he was willing to push away any possible suspicion he might have had. He waited a foot away from the vehicle with a small smile. 

Dean got out, giving the Sheriff a wary smile in response. “Uh, hey.” He said nervously. “I don’t want any trouble. I’m just here to make sure they got somewhere safe and I’m gonna head out.” 

John held a hand out to shake the younger man’s hand. “Son, there is no trouble, believe me. I’m beyond grateful to you. Thank you for bringing my boy and Allison back.”

“Oh, then, uh... you’re welcome?” Dean looked a little embarrassed. “I was just doin’ what anyone else would’ve.” 

“Nobody else did, though.” Stiles insisted. “Not for months!” 

John studied the other man thoughtfully for a moment. “You don’t get thanked a lot, do you, son?” He asked gently. He waited a beat, and then looked down at Stiles. “What do you think? Should we invite your friend to dinner as a big thank you?”

“Uh, yeah!?” Stiles laughed. “He fed us at least seven meals, and a bunch of snacks.” 

Dean shook his head, looking at his shoes. “It’s okay.” He muttered. “I need to get going, anyway.” 

Allison barreled out of the car and flung her arms around him. “No!” She protested, staring up at him. “Please stay? Please?”

“Yeah, what she said.” Stiles nodded. “You can’t just leave yet.” 

Dean smiled faintly, patting Allison’s back. “Get offa me, you dork.” He teased. “Fine, I’ll stay for dinner.” 

Allison beamed at him before obediently stepping back. “Yay!” She cheered, and then sheepishly turned around to peer up at John. “Um… Could I stay for dinner, too, sir? Please? With my parents?”

John’s gentle smile froze a little, but he exhaled softly and nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. I just need to get in touch with your dad.”

“Go ahead.” Stiles blurted. “We’re going to stay here and make sure Dean doesn’t leave.” He smirked up at the hunter. 

Dean laughed. “I’m not leaving.” 

John snorted, reaching out to ruffle Stiles’ hair affectionately. He walked a fair distance away, but didn’t go back inside the building, completely unwilling to let Stiles out of his sight. It definitely wasn’t out of distrust of the man that had brought the kids back, he was just legitimately terrified to take his eyes off of his son.

Allison walked around the car, finally getting a chance to look it properly. “I like your car, Dean.” She told him. “It’s really shiny. And kind of old, but I think that’s kind of cool.”

“It was my dad’s.” Dean smiled. “But he gave it to me. We moved around all the time. It was just me, and my brother Sammy, and our dad. It didn’t matter where we lived, though. We always had her with us.” 

“Her?” Allison asked curiously. “And where’s Sammy? And your dad?” She leaned gently against the car, not wanting to smudge the car with her fingerprints.

“Her. Baby. My car.” Dean laughed. “Sam’s in college. Stanford. And my dad’s... I don’t know where, really. I’ll call him after we eat.” 

Allison smiled and nodded. “You should definitely call your dad.” She told him. She couldn’t wait to see her dad. She couldn’t believe how much she’d missed him.

“I will, but let’s worry about yours, first.” Dean suggested. 

“Okay.” Allison looked up as the Sheriff walked back toward them, looking up at him hopefully.

John smiled gently. “Your dad will be here soon, sweetheart. He’s very happy that you’re back.”

“But not her mom?” Stiles demanded. “You keep saying her dad, but not her parents.” 

John glanced at Stiles, and then sighed. “Well, Allison’s mother is in San Francisco right now. So Chris has to get in contact with her, so that she knows Allison is okay and comes back to see her.”

Chris Argent pulled into the lot in a black SUV, a few minutes later. He parked haphazardly and didn’t bother correcting his positioning before he got out, rushing toward his daughter. “Your mom will be awhile.” He said gently. “But she’s coming.” 

Allison threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and nodding as she buried her face in his neck. 

“Did Gerard hurt you?” Chris blurted. “Do you need to go to a doctor for anything? You’re probably going to talk to a psychologist, since - I can only imagine what sort of things you had to deal with, and I know what my father is capable of.” 

Dean coughed, suddenly nervous and feeling awkward, keeping his gaze averted from the Argents. 

Allison shook her head, her dark hair flying. “He didn’t hurt us, Daddy.” She assured him, grimacing. “He even fed us, but - not the last few days he had us.” She looked over her shoulder. “Dean saved us.”

“He lied to us about a lot of shit, though.” Stiles blurted, not caring that he wasn’t supposed to swear. As far as he was concerned, he had earned it. “Gerard, I mean. Not Dean. Dean’s awesome.” 

Dean smiled softly. “I just know that if it was my little brother, who’s not really so little these days? I’d have fought a hundred demons to get to him.” 

John smiled, looking pleased. He pressed his hand lightly to the back of Stiles’ neck, gently squeezing, just to let his son know he was there. “Thanks for that. Thanks for thinking of them both.” He told Dean, nodding. He looked at Chris. “I’ve invited Dean for dinner, and it extends to you and Allison as well.” He looked down at Stiles after a beat, frowning. “What did Gerard lie to you about?”

Allison clinged to Chris’ arms. “He told us you were dead.” She said softly. “He said that you all were.”

“And he was gonna sell us.” Stiles added. 

John’s eyes darkened, and he looked furious. He glanced up at Chris. “I’m putting out an APB on Gerard Argent. If he resists arrest, my deputies have clearance to take him out.”

“He’s in New Orleans. Or at least he was, two days ago.” Dean spoke up. 

John nodded his thanks at Dean.

“He’s really mean.” Allison said softly, looking up at them all. “You should tell them to be really careful.”

Chris was silent, already planning how he would spread the word to hunters he trusted, to let them know that Gerard had crossed a line and had to be dealt with. 

“Okay.” John said quietly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to go back inside the station really quickly - and if you want to tag along, please do,” he added, looking down at his son. “And I’m going to tell them that I’m taking the rest of the day off to spend with my kid. Then we’re all going to head to my house, where we are going to sit down and have dinner and praise everything good that our kids are back and safe and healthy.” He looked at Dean. “And hell, son, if I could legitimately give you a damn medal, I would. As it is, I think I’d like it if we could sit down and talk about what you witnessed with Gerard, and what you think we could do to keep these two safe in the future.” He studied Stiles for a moment. “Self-defense of some kind, for sure.”

Stiles nodded. He reached for his dad’s hand. “We’ll be right back.” He told Allison. “Okay?” 

Allison smiled back at him, leaning against her father and nodding. “Okay.” She agreed.

John took Stiles’ hand and led him back toward the station.

**

Chris had made a few phone calls from the safety of the SUV while he waited for Victoria to arrive at the Stilinski house. He smiled grimly as he got out, meeting her in the driveway. “If someone else hasn’t done it in the next couple of weeks, I’ll find him and shoot him myself.” 

Victoria nodded. “If someone else hasn’t done it by tomorrow night, you won’t have to. I’ll handle it.” She put her hand in the crook of his arm. “Now let’s go have dinner with Allison and talk to her about what she’s missed.” 

Even though they weren’t together anymore, Chris had to admit to himself that he still cared about Victoria and definitely had respect for her. He walked into the house with her, calling out to their daughter. “Allison, come here.” 

Allison walked into the room, and her eyes lit up when she saw Victoria. “Mom!” She blurted, running toward her.

Victoria hugged Allison, wiping tears out of her eyes before she brushed hair back from her daughter’s face. “Are you all right? I want you to tell me everything.” 

Allison swallowed roughly, hugging her mother back. “He was awful.” She blurted. “And Kate, too. She was terrible. She made it seem like she was just taking me out for ice cream, and then she told me to stay in the car and when she came back, Stiles was with her. And then she just drove, and kept driving, and then she dumped us with Gerard and left. And then Gerard started yelling about Kate being dead, and making everyone in Beacon Hills suffer, and he locked us in the back of his car and drove. He fed us, at least, until we ended up in New Orleans, and then he locked us in the hotel room the whole time we were there, and only gave us water, and he kept telling us that you and Daddy were dead, and that Stiles’ dad was dead. And then Dean busted open the door and saved us, and he drove us all the way back home and fed us, but Gerard is still out there, Mom.” Allison inhaled deeply, panting a little as she stared up at Victoria.

Victoria rubbed Allison’s back. “Go get yourself a glass of water.” She commanded, glancing over at Chris. Her ex-husband nodded back at her, and she decided that now wasn’t the time to tell Allison anything. 

Allison nodded, and couldn’t help hugging her mother again, burying her face in Victoria’s neck before she pulled away to do as she said.

John watched Allison run past before he approached Victoria and Chris, nodding at them both. “Victoria, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Victoria glanced toward Allison, then looked back at John and Chris. “We need to start training her.” She said firmly, her voice quiet to prevent Allison from hearing. “She was gone for months and she wouldn’t have been, if she had known enough.” 

“I agree.” John replied. “I was thinking the same about Stiles. He’s incredibly capable, and he loves soaking in knowledge of any kind - this would be something he would jump at becoming an expert at.” He glanced toward his son, Allison and Dean. “I want them both protected and capable of protecting themselves. Dean didn’t have to rescue them - Stiles outright said that no one else bothered, but this kid did. I’m beyond grateful, and I’d like to include him, but I’m getting the feeling he doesn’t stick around anywhere for too long. The kids practically had to beg him to stay before he agreed.”

“Then we provide him with an incentive to stay.” Victoria remarked. “Give him somewhere to live and offer to pay him to train the kids. We can make sure they’re learning properly, but we’re familiar with the Winchesters. Not personally, but we’ve heard enough.” 

Chris looked doubtful. “If he even agrees to it.” He looked at John. “It might help if somebody in law enforcement could make his record go away.” 

John sighed, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I can only do so much…” He studied Chris and Victoria, and then nodded. “But yeah. I’ll do what I can to make it disappear.”

“It’s why he’s running.” Chris added, hoping to make John understand. “Not everything about hunting is legal, and even the things that are tend to piss somebody off.” 

John furrowed his brows, looking back at Dean. “He’s so young.” He said quietly, shaking his head. “Like I said. I’ll do what I can. I might have to…” He grimaced. “Involve outside sources in order to erase the majority of what he has on him.”

“Danny can do it!” Stiles blurted, shrugging when he realized he had given away the fact that he was eavesdropping. “He’s in my class, but he’s good at that stuff.” 

John looked back at Stiles, and then snorted. “Son, I’m not going to involve a ten year old in this.” He murmured, shaking his head. “There’s breaking the law, and then there’s making someone else break the law, and god knows what else. I couldn’t do that to a kid. I’ll find someone willing to do it, though.”

“Do you listen in on a lot of things?” Victoria asked, smiling at Stiles. 

“Uh, yeah?” Stiles admitted. “Because my mom died like, three years ago and my dad won’t ever tell me if he’s in danger or anything, and he has high cholesterol. So I don’t let him order burgers that much.” 

“Which I do occasionally listen to.” John protested. “And I don’t tell you if I’m in danger because I don’t want you worrying about me anymore than you already do.” He leaned down toward Stiles. “It’s my job to worry about you, kiddo.”

“I’ll do it anyway, though.” Stiles protested. “Because we’re a team.” 

John smiled at him and held up a hand toward Stiles. “You’re damn right we are.” He agreed.

Stiles high-fived his dad, grinning back at him. His smile faded just as quickly a few seconds later. “Oh, crap! I need to call Scott.” 

Just as quickly, John produced his phone and handed it over to Stiles. “Go on, kiddo. Don’t stay on too long, okay? But maybe Melissa will be willing to let Scott come stay over.”

“Okay!” Stiles took the phone and ran to his room to call Scott. 

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to move back here?” Chris asked Victoria. 

“I told you I wanted to live in San Francisco.” Victoria said quietly. “I’ll still come here to visit Allison, or get her for a little while in summertime.” 

“You don’t live here anymore?” Allison repeated, staring at her mother. The glass of water was in one hand and was visibly shaking. She’d come back in just as Stiles had left. “Mom?”

Victoria reached out to take the glass from Allison. “Your father and I are divorced now, but I’m not too far away, and I’ll come visit often.” 

“But why?” Allison asked, looking between them. “I don’t understand. What happened? Don’t you love each other anymore?”

“We do, but that’s not necessarily reason enough.” Victoria said gently. “We just had different ideas for what we wanted, and we realized that being married would conflict with those things.” 

Chris nodded. “We didn’t fight or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Allison’s shoulders slumped. “But you’re…” She took a deep breath. “Do I… you said you’d visit often. That means I’m staying with Dad?”

“Yes, here in Beacon Hills.” Chris nodded again. 

“I’m living in San Francisco.” Victoria murmured. “I’m not too far away.” 

Allison swallowed. “Oh… okay.” She mumbled, and then visibly wilted, leaning into her mother’s side and hugging her tightly.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had settled into a new routine, even though his dad wasn’t too happy about it. He had an apartment of his own, in Beacon Hills. He was getting paid to teach Stiles and Allison how to hunt and how to research cases. Every day, after school, he helped them with homework and then spent two hours working with them on different things. Sometimes, he ended up making dinner and getting them to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, since the Sheriff had more than his share of double shifts and Chris had international business to tend to. He didn’t mind any of it, and he liked being able to take care of kids. Not having Sam around had made him feel useless. 

“Hi, Dean!” Allison called out, opened the door and letting herself in. She dropped her backpack next to the couch and headed toward the kitchen.

“Hey!” Stiles shut the door behind him, getting his books out of his backpack and sitting down to do his homework. 

“There’s grape kool-aid in the fridge and I have leftover mac and cheese.” Dean turned the tv off, leaning forward to look at Stiles’ homework. “What’re you workin’ on?” 

“United States geography.” Stiles muttered. “All of the capitals and that crap, too. We were supposed to learn it back in February, but I wasn’t here. And they’re saying that me and Ally might have to repeat our grade, next year. That’s such bullshit. It’s not like we deliberately got ourselves kidnapped.” 

Allison grabbed the kool-aid and two glasses, filling them both before walking one of the glasses over to Stiles. She went back into the kitchen to grab the mac and cheese, as well as her glass, placing them on the table before looking at Dean and sighing. “I know for sure my dad’s been muttering about sending me to summer school or getting my mom to spend more time in Beacon Hills, teaching me. He’s pretty angry at the school about this, too.”

“Well, maybe we should skip the survival lessons for a little while, and work more on your homework.” Dean shrugged. “You’re gonna have plenty of time to learn how to hunt.” 

Allison nodded thoughtfully, digging her own homework out of her bag before settling down at the table across from Stiles. “I’ve already been held back once.” She muttered. “When we lived in Montana. I don’t want to get held back again.”

Dean gave them a thoughtful look, nodding. “Okay. How long until school’s out for the summer, anyway?” 

“Next week is our last week.” Stiles frowned. “I don’t think we’ll get caught up in time.” 

“Maybe not.” Dean held his hand up to prevent Stiles from saying anything further. “But I think you can prove, by the end of summer school, that you know everything you need to know, to get you into fifth grade.” 

“Couldn’t we just drop out and get our GEDs, like you did?” Stiles pouted. 

“So your dads can both kill me?” Dean snorted. “Hell no.” 

“My dad wouldn’t kill you.” Allison promised him. “I wouldn’t let him.” She furrowed her brows. “Do you really think we could do this?”

“Do I look like I say shit without any reason behind it?” Dean grinned. “I’ll call my brother and see if his geek ass wants to come here and help.” 

Allison sat up, grinning back at Dean and looking intrigued by the idea of meeting Dean’s younger brother. “You said Sam was at college, right? What college? Is he close?”

“Stanford.” Dean reminded her. “Palo Alto. Not too far from here, no. They should be done for the year by now, right? I’ll try callin’ him.” He got up, grabbing his phone from his bedroom and dialing Sam’s phone number. 

Sam picked up on the third ring. “Dean? What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Nah, not exactly.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda got myself a job and I’m gonna need some help, this summer. You busy?” 

“This summer?” Sam asked. “Well… no, not really.” He sounded a little suspicious. “What kind of job, Dean? It’s not the… Dad kind of job, is it?”

“Nah, I’m training a couple of kids to defend themselves and hunt, and I’m also helpin’ them with homework. They, uh, went missing for awhile and their teacher’s sayin’ they’re gonna be held back a year for all the schoolwork they didn’t do. I figured a nerd like you would be able to get ‘em ready to move onto the next grade.” 

“I’m not a nerd,” Sam said automatically. “So you’re teaching two kids for the whole summer? Really?” He paused. “I mean… I wouldn’t mind coming for a visit.”

“I’ll text you my address.” Dean laughed, suddenly embarrassed because it didn’t sound like a normal thing for him to say.

“... Address?” Sam repeated, his voice sounding faint, but astonished. “I… yeah, okay. I’ll start packing.” He hesitated. “Does Dad know about you doing this? What did he say?”

“Well, first of all, bitch, I’m twenty-six.” Dean muttered. “But anyway, Dad’s not happy about it, no. Thinks I'm wastin’ my time, not looking for what killed Mom.” He remembered suddenly that he was in the presence of a kid who wouldn’t stop asking questions about anything. “Hang on.” He took the phone away from his ear, pointing at Stiles. “Don’t you even think about asking me a damned thing. Got it?” 

Stiles nodded, a solemn expression on his face. 

“Great.” Dean rolled his eyes. He wasn’t stupid, and he knew that Stiles would find a way around what he had just agreed to. He put the phone back up to his ear. “But whether he likes it or not, he made sure I ended up bein’ good at this kind of thing. I took care of you all the time. Two more kids aren’t gonna break me.” 

Sam laughed. “Alright, fine. I won’t doubt your abilities. If I leave in another ten, I can be at your address in…” he made a thoughtful noise. “Around four and a half hours? Sometime around seven-thirty, eight if I count pit stops.”

“That works for me.” Dean smiled to himself. “Are you gonna eat dinner before you get here, though?” 

“Nah, I’ll just grab something on the road. Maybe a burrito or two.” Sam assured him. “I mean, they’re practically made for traveling.”

“Yeah.” Dean snorted. “Well, you’d better also pick up some Gas-X or somethin’, because I didn’t forget who you were in the last few years. I’ll see you later.” 

“Bite me, Dean. At least you won’t be in the car with me.” Sam grinned. “I’ll see you soon.”

Dean hung up, texting his address to his brother. He grimaced as he turned toward Stiles and Allison. “I don’t want to hear any questions about Sam. You’re gonna meet him in a few hours, anyway.” 

Allison pouted a little bit, but nodded. “Okay,” she sighed, drawing the word out. She was interested in pretty much every single thing about Dean, though if he said not to, she would never ask. She waved her homework at him. “Can we finish this up and then take a tv break?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Dean agreed. “You need me to go over any of it with you?” 

“No.” Stiles said abruptly. He was already putting his things back into his backpack. “I have some stuff to do at the library, but I’ll be back in time for dinner.” 

“Did I say you could go?” Dean asked quietly, smirking. He knew exactly why Stiles was going to the library, and it had nothing to do with homework. 

“Dude!” Stiles blurted, waving his hands in frustration. “I have stuff to do for a paper, for English.” 

“Not when you’re done with school next week, you don’t.” Dean shook his head. “Teachers never give out the hard work, this close to the end of the year. All you’re probably doin’ in class is trying to get caught up and playing Connect Four and shit like that.” 

“Guess Who.” Allison nodded. 

Stiles sighed. “Fine, but you know that I’m just going to find out what you’re not telling me, anyway.” He told Dean, a determined look in his eye. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else out of you.” Dean shrugged. “Do your homework and then you can watch tv while I make dinner.” 

“I could make dinner.” Stiles argued. 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to.” Dean tilted his head back, groaning in irritation when Stiles only stared at him. “Fine! You can help me with dinner.” 

“Cool, that’s all I wanted.” Stiles sat down and went back to working on his homework. 

“Fucking manipulator.” Dean muttered. 

Allison ducked her head, letting out a quiet giggle as she focused on her homework. She’d learned very quickly that watching Stiles and Dean interact was one of her favorite things to watch. 

Stiles glanced up at Allison and grinned, then went back to writing down state capitals on his worksheet. He hesitated, thinking over the past few months. Gerard had dragged them from one place to another, never really letting them see much of outside. Now that he was back and Allison was staying in Beacon Hills, he didn’t talk to Scott as often as he used to. They still hung out at school every day, but it was almost summer and he was going to have to tell his best friend about werewolves and what he had been through. He just wasn’t sure it was the right idea, since Melissa always got mad at him for explaining things to Scott that she didn’t want him to know. And in a strange way, he felt like he didn’t want to tell Scott any of it. He wasn’t sure why. 

Allison nudged him gently, looking concerned. “Are you okay?” She whispered. 

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “Uh, maybe? It’s just that Scott doesn’t know about this stuff and he’s - he’s not stupid. He’s really smart, but sometimes stuff just takes him longer to understand. I think it’s because he believes the best of everybody, and guys like Gerard don’t have a best. He doesn’t get access to crime scene photos and stuff. I know I’m not supposed to see them either, but sometimes my dad drinks and I - he doesn’t do it as much as he used to, I mean. But he did, and I’d have to hurry up and move stuff so he didn’t spill his drinks all over it. What was I talking about?” 

“Scott.” Dean remarked, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at Stiles. “And whether or not you should tell him about werewolves.” 

Stiles looked up at Dean and gulped. “Are you pissed off at me?” 

“I’m pissed off.” Dean nodded. “But not at you.” 

Allison looked up at Dean warily. “Who are you pissed off at?” She asked hesitantly. 

“Uh, parents in general, I guess.” Dean shook his head. “Seems like most of ‘em don’t do half the shit they’re supposed to.” 

“My mom died and -” Stiles snapped, but Dean interrupted him. 

“Mine did, too!” Dean stood up straight, lowering his arms to his sides. “I was four, Sam was a baby. Wasn’t my fault, or his. Sure as hell wasn’t yours that your mom died, yeah? So explain to me how we get stuck takin’ care of them instead of the other way around.” 

Stiles blinked, baffled. “I wanted to.” He said quietly. He set his pencil down and got up, hugging Dean. “My dad does a lot for me, okay? And the whole town. Some of the stuff he deals with is scary, and if he needs a drink sometimes, that’s okay. I don’t need him to do everything. You don’t need your dad to do everything for you, right?” 

“When I was four, I did.” Dean muttered, hugging Stiles in return and wondering how the hell a ten year old was smarter than him. He snorted at himself. “I’m gonna go into my room. I expect you two to finish your work before you watch tv.” 

Allison stood up and hugged him, too - she couldn’t commiserate with either of them because her parents had always been around her, had always made sure at least one of them was there, but she wanted to at least offer the older man a little bit of comfort. Hearing how he spoke about his own family made her feel guilty. “We will.” She promised him softly. “And if you’re still in there when your brother gets here, we’ll come get you.”

Dean nodded, then fled to the safety of his bedroom, shutting the door. 

Stiles’ fists clenched and he turned toward Allison. “We’re gonna find his dad and punch him.” 

Allison nodded. “Definitely. Maybe my dad can help. Didn’t he say he knew about Dean’s family?”

“He said he knew _of_ them, but yeah.” Stiles murmured. “Lots of people need to be punched, though. Dean’s dad and Gerard do, and Jackson Whittemore.” 

Allison nodded fiercely. “Yes, all of them.” She agreed. “I don’t like Jackson. He’s awful and he doesn’t really have any reason to be.”

“I think he’s just bitter ‘cause he’s adopted.” Stiles muttered. “Like that’s the worst thing ever? At least he knows his parents wanted him.” 

Allison hummed, shaking her head. “Sometimes, he’s weird. He can be, like, really nice, and quiet, and not obnoxious at all. And then someone will say something, and he just gets so mean so fast, and he laughs at people for things they can’t help, or he laughs when one of his friends does something mean to someone else instead of going over to help them. I don’t understand why he’s like that, I don’t understand why anyone would be.” She looked at Stiles. “I’d offer to be his friend if I thought it would make him a little bit nicer, but I don’t think it would. And I think he’d try to convince me to stay away from you, and I don’t want that. I like being your friend.”

Stiles grinned. “I like being your friend, too. Besides, I was looking it up and we’re supposed to be friends for life, after what we went through.” He laughed. 

Allison grinned at him. “I’m really okay with that.” She told him. “I bet we will be, too.”

**

After dinner, Dean washed the dishes and went into the living room to sit on the couch and watch tv with Stiles and Allison. He kept looking at his watch, wondering when Sam would arrive, and sitting still seemed impossible. 

There was a knock on the door not a moment later. “Uh. Dean? Are you in there?” Sam called. “You better not have given me a fake address or something.”

Dean snorted as he opened the door. “Hey, dumbass? If I gave you a fake address, you wouldn’t have been talkin’ to me, you’d be talking to somebody else.” He hugged his brother, laughing. 

Sam grinned, hugging Dean back tightly. “It’s so good to see you, you jerk.” He laughed.

“Yeah, you too, bitch.” Dean ruffled Sam’s hair. “C’mere and meet Stiles and Allison. About a month ago, I heard that this asshole was trying to sell ‘em to whatever hunter family would match his price, and I tracked him down and got them out of there. He’d told ‘em that their parents were dead, so they wouldn't try to run.” 

Sam’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god. Is this guy in jail? Is anyone hunting him down?” He asked, stepping into the room to see the two preteens.

“Yeah, Allison’s dad put the word out. It’s Allison’s grandfather that did it, so now he’s fair game.” Dean shook his head. 

“Hi.” Stiles looked up at Sam. “You look like Shrek.” He rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I’m still readjusting to my Adderall and they don’t have me on the right dosage yet.” 

Allison choked out a laugh, staring up at Sam. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you!” She blurted, squeezing Stiles’ hand gently.

Sam smiled back at them both. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He tried his best to ignore the ‘Shrek’ comment, hoping that it was just because of his height and not because he’d somehow gained the appearance of an ogre.

“Are you two crashing here again, or do I need to drive you home?” Dean yawned involuntarily. “I’d probably better make some coffee, either way.” 

“I should probably go home.” Stiles murmured. “But you don’t have to drive me there.” 

Allison nodded in agreement, looking regretful. “I should probably go, too.” She sighed. “Which sucks a little, because I want to stay.” She looked at Stiles as she reached for her backpack. “Should we head out now, then?”

“Yeah.” Stiles pulled his backpack on over his shoulders. Allison’s house wasn’t too far from his, and he walked her home on the days when they didn’t go to Dean’s apartment. “Bye, Dean!” 

Dean wanted to protest, but he knew that they could take care of themselves and it wasn’t dark outside, anyway. “Call me when you get home.” He demanded. 

Stiles saluted him and smirked, then walked out to the hallway. 

Allison grinned at Dean. “We will.” She promised him, nodding. She gave him a wave, and then waved at Sam as well. “Bye, see you later!” She called, and followed after Stiles.

Dean closed the door behind the kids and sat down on the couch, looking up at Sam. “Okay, go ahead. I know you have a million questions bouncing around in that melon of yours.” 

“I can’t form questions right now.” Sam replied, sitting down on the arm of the couch and staring at his brother. “Well, maybe I can, but the only one that’s really making noise in my head right now is, ‘What the hell is happening?’”

Dean laughed. “I saved those kids and then Stiles’ dad - uh, he’s the Sheriff out here. He and Allison’s parents told me I should stick around and teach them how to take care of themselves. The Sheriff got rid of my arrest record and helped me find this apartment, and the Argents gave me a bunch of furniture they didn’t want anymore.” 

Sam looked startled. “You mean… you actually have a clean record? From an actual law enforcement official, and not by some sketchy guy sending out advertisements on Craigslist?” He stared at Dean for a moment. “You’ve actually settled in. Like - you’re enjoying doing this, aren’t you? Taking care of those kids and teaching them, and god, you even got a guy in law enforcement to like you enough to wipe your record and get you to stay in a decent place.” He looked around the apartment, and smiled faintly. “No wonder Dad’s annoyed. Everyone he comes in contact with just ends up wanting to punch him in the face, whether he’s saved them or not.”

“Yeah, well, he kinda earned it, didn’t he?” Dean snorted. “Yeah, I like bein’ here. It feels weird, not hunting anything. I’ll probably end up doin’ it later on. After this summer, I guess. They’re not gonna need my help as much, anyway.” 

“How long does the Sheriff want you around and training them?” Sam asked curiously. “Does he just want self-defense, or does he want… you know. The hunter special?” He paused. “Does the Sheriff know about the supernatural?”

“I don’t know if he knows all of it. He knows about werewolves.” Dean nodded. “He said he wanted Stiles to learn self-defense, but I didn’t hide the fact that I was teaching him all kinds of that.” 

“So then, yeah, he’s probably okay with teaching the kid everything, right? He’s the son of a Sheriff, the Sheriff’s probably really aware that if someone succeeded in stealing his kid once, there could be other attempts in the future.” Sam murmured.

“I’m not gonna let that happen.” Dean shrugged. “They’re good, anyway. Allison can fire a crossbow. She’s good with a gun, too. But she likes arrows and shit like that. Stiles already had an idea of how to use a gun, but no real practical knowledge of it. He’s a little wide, but he’ll get better this summer.” 

“So… what can I do, then?” Sam asked, looking at Dean curiously. “What can I help with?”

“Everything. School stuff, mostly. Teachin’ them how to do things that I haven’t thought of. I’m sure there’s something I forgot. Talk to them and tell them that just ‘cause this happened, it doesn’t mean they have to devote their lives to hunting.” Dean smiled. “It’s not for everybody.” 

Sam’s shoulders - which he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back tensely - relaxed, and he smiled back at his brother, tilting his head. “Yeah. I can do that.” He murmured. “I’ll take care of all of that.”

Dean grinned. “Good, since that also gives me time to have a break from ‘em. Pretty sure at least one of those kids has a crush on me.” He snorted. 

“The girl, huh?” Sam smirked at his brother. “She’s got hero worship written all over her face when she looks at you, and I legitimately only saw her for a minute.”

“Yeah. It’s cute, but I’m kinda hopin’ she gets over it soon.” Dean laughed. 

“How old is she again?” Sam asked him, leaning forward a little.

“Eleven. When I was eleven...” Dean muttered. “I barely noticed girls. I noticed ‘em, but they weren’t a priority.” 

“The times, they change.” Sam teased. “Sorry, man. I think you’ve got a ways to go before whatever she’s feeling stops. It’s legitimately proven that girls mature much faster than boys do - if she’s eleven and she’s already got a crush on you, you’ve gotta either let it run its course, or have a talk with her.”

“If it doesn’t go away by the end of June, I’ll say somethin’ then.” Dean frowned. 

Sam nodded. “In the meantime, I’d say make sure all of her time is occupied between Stiles, and her homework, and her training, so she’s too exhausted to make eyes at you.”

“Like, what? Make ‘em run laps like Dad made us?” Dean tilted his head. “Maybe.” 

“It’s not like running’s a bad thing.” Sam pointed out. “They’re, what, going to be in the fifth grade? They’ll have one more year to go before they get to middle school and team sports become a thing, and it’ll definitely keep them fit in case both of them do choose to go into hunting.”

“What do you think, then? A mile a day? I’m not good at this. I still don’t know what I’m actually hangin’ around for, since I’m probably just gonna screw things up, anyway.” Dean muttered. 

Sam shook his head. “You won’t. I know you wouldn’t.” He studied Dean, and then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’d say start them off at a half-mile and see how they do, and then just keep upping the distance a little every day.”

“Okay.” Dean was quiet for a few minutes, then looked up at Sam. “I used to want something like this, you know? I thought I’d be a firefighter. The idea of not hunting is weird, though.” 

“I think it’s a relief.” Sam admitted, shrugging a shoulder. He looked down. “I mean… I know you feel differently about it, I know that… but even if it was something I was good at, it was never something I wanted to do forever, you know?”

“I want to keep people safe. I don’t know if I care how I do that.” Dean admitted, then snorted. “Maybe I could be a cop. It’s not like my record would stop me from it, now.” 

Sam smiled crookedly. “Hey, it looks like you’ve got a buddy in the town sheriff now. Maybe he’d be willing to help you out.”

“I’ll give it more thought.” Dean nodded. He stood up. “You want a beer?” 

“God, yeah, please.” Sam nodded. “Wait, you mean those two kids haven’t tried to steal any of it out of your fridge?”

“Actually, no.” Dean laughed. He went into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of beer. He handed one to Sam and sat back down. “Stiles tried to lecture me on the perils of alcohol. I had to tell him that I knew what I was doin’ and that Dad drank a fuckton more than I ever do, at a stretch.” 

Sam popped the top on it, grinning faintly. “That’s a little surprising, honestly. Most kids their age would be getting into anything and everything that an adult told them to stay away from.”

“Not him.” Dean shook his head. “I had to practically beat the kid with a spatula to get him to let me cook dinner without his help. It’s not even that it bugs me that much, anyway? He’s too much like me and I think that’s what freaks me out.” 

“He couldn’t be that much like you.” Sam shook his head, and then drew his brows together. “How alike are we talking here?”

“He told his dad not to get rid of his mom’s Jeep, because he wants to drive it when he’s old enough. There’s other stuff, but that’s just - you’d have to spend more time around him.” Dean laughed. “I worry about him because... anyway.” 

Sam smiled faintly. “Yeah.” He murmured, nodding. “I gotcha.”

**

Stiles glanced over at Allison as they approached her house. “Is your dad making you stay with your mom this summer, at all?” 

Allison clutched her hands together thoughtfully. “He wouldn’t be making me, really. I want to spend time with her. But if I do, it probably won’t be until before the next school year starts at some point. She got her job back as a buyer at that boutique, you know.” She shrugged. “Even if I do go, though, it wouldn’t be for long. Maybe a week at the most.”

“Okay.” Stiles murmured. “Do you think -” He shook his head. “Probably not, but maybe, if you want, I could come too? I mean, I don’t have to. I probably owe Scott five months of bro time and I’m gonna have to squeeze that into the three months we get of summer break.” He laughed. “But my dad... uh, I don’t wanna make this sound like he doesn’t want me around, but maybe he wants a break that’s a real break, and not me being gone and him not knowing where I am?” 

Allison beamed softly at him, reaching out to take his hand. “I think that I’ve seen your dad look super, super paranoid when you’re not in his line of sight and that any break he takes, he’s going to want to take with you. And yeah, you probably owe Scott… ‘bro time’ or whatever, too, but you’ve been friends forever, and he’ll have plenty of time to spend with you anytime. On the other hand… taking a trip to San Francisco with you sounds like it would be really fun and I want to do that a lot. We could convince my mom to take us to the Golden Gate Bridge, maybe. And Alcatraz.” Her eyes glowed with excitement. “Maybe we could uncover whether or not there actually _is_ ghost activity there.”

Stiles grinned. “Maybe we can even make it stop, if there is. I’ll talk to my dad and have him talk to your mom, I guess? If he doesn’t mind me going. I’m probably going to see Scott before I go home. Do you want to come with me to do that, or are you just going home now, since we’re here?” 

Allison rubbed her free hand over her eye, and then brushed her hair back from her face. “I can come with you.” She told him. “I think my dad might still be out of the house? I don’t really want to go home to an empty one right now.” 

“Yeah, neither do I.” Stiles agreed. He laughed. “But don’t laugh at Scott, okay?” He started walking toward the McCall house, not letting go of Allison’s hand. “He has a crush on you and he’s way too shy to admit to that.” 

Allison blinked at him rapidly, her eyes growing large. “He - he does?” She blurted. “I didn’t know that. I wouldn’t laugh at him, though.”

“I thought you knew!” Stiles looked worried. “Crap. Don’t tell him you know. He’ll be so mad at me.” 

Allison smiled crookedly at him. “I won’t say a word.” She murmured. “I promise.” She studied him for a moment, frowning a little. “Um… exactly how long has he liked me?”

“Since we got back and he met you.” Stiles shrugged. “Maybe earlier, if he saw you before we were kidnapped. He’s a nice guy and he’ll do anything to make people around him happy, so if you want him to be your boyfriend, you should probably ask him out.” 

Allison shook her head, blushing a little. “No, I - I don’t think I want a boyfriend right now.” She said quietly. “Besides, I’m not… this sounds so mean. I don’t mean for it to sound mean, but I’m not… really interested?”

“Because you like Dean?” Stiles smirked. 

“Ye - I mean. Shut up.” Allison blurted, her face reddening even more. She lightly pushed his shoulder.

Stiles burst out laughing. “It’s okay that you like him, but it’s not going to get you anywhere.” He shrugged. “I was thinking a lot while we were stuck. I liked Lydia for a long time. Lydia Martin. You know her? But she looked at me like I was weird, when we got back. I heard people talking about us, too. You and me, I mean. Somebody thinks we ran away and tried to join the circus. They’re all stupid. I think Lydia might even believe that, though? And she’s really smart, so I don’t know why she’d believe it. But I don’t want her to look at me now, just because people have been saying things about us.” 

Allison grimaced, shrinking in on herself a little. “I don’t like it when people talk about us.” She said softly. “It’s not even behind our backs. They say it in front of us, like we’re not really even there. And if Lydia Martin is so smart, then yeah, she shouldn’t believe rumors, but I don’t know why we should expect anything different. This whole town thinks we’re attention hoarders.”

Stiles made a face. “Um, the expression is actually ‘attention whores,’ but I get what you’re saying. And you probably don’t want to say that in front of your parents, or they’ll never let me hang out with you again. Scott got grounded from talking to me for a whole week because I taught him how to say ‘fuck’ in Polish, and his mom wanted to know what it meant and where he heard it, and he doesn’t like lying to her, so he told her the truth. That’s what I was trying to tell you before. He’s not stupid, he’s just... not smart enough to know that he should lie, sometimes.” 

“So… he’s kind of naive and really, really innocent, is what you’re saying.” Allison said. She furrowed her brows together. “Okay. So I guess I won’t be sharing stuff about our training with Dean, then.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t, either.” Stiles mumbled. “It’s kinda hard, though? I mean, I tell him everything else, and it’s kind of a big deal that I haven’t said anything to him about this. He thinks that Dean is my Big Brother. Like, a Big Brothers, Big Sisters thing.” He smiled crookedly. 

“So we’ll let him keep thinking that.” Allison replied. “I mean, it isn’t far from the truth. Big brothers, capitalized or not, are always around and teach you all kinds of things, and having Dean around and letting that be a cover for him would be a good way to avoid telling Scott something he might not be able to keep a secret. Or telling him something that could scare him.” She took a deep breath. “I know you want to tell him, but… maybe not telling him is just the best way to keep him safe, you know?”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed. “It’ll just be our secret, then.” 

Allison nodded and turned toward him, holding out her pinky. “Our secret.”

Stiles linked his pinky finger with hers, grinning. He walked up the steps of Scott’s front porch, knocking on the door before he twisted around to look at Allison. 

Allison looked back at him and smiled crookedly, bumping her shoulder gently against his.

The front door flew open and Scott appeared with a wide smile. “Stiles!” He greeted, throwing his arms around the other boy gleefully.

“Hey!” Stiles grinned as he hugged Scott in return. “Allison and I decided to come see you before we go to my house, since her dad wasn’t home and she doesn’t want to be by herself. Can we come in, or are you busy?” 

Scott jerked back from Stiles with wide eyes, and his skin went beet red from his forehead straight past the neck of his t-shirt. “Allison - h-hi,” he squeaked. “Uh. No, not - I’m not busy, yes you can come in, come in.” He blurted.

Allison smiled politely at him, clasping her hands behind her back as she stepped past both boys into the house.

“Dude, tone it down.” Stiles said gently. “She’s just a person, she does all the same stuff we do. She goes pee and everything.” 

Allison’s eyes bulged a little, but then she snorted out a loud laugh. “Stiles!”

Stiles laughed. “What? I know you pee, I’ve seen you doing the potty dance on your way into the bathroom, then flush the toilet and wash your hands before you left the bathroom. Unless you’re a robot and just pretending? You were going pee.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t have to say it out loud!” Allison giggled. “It’s not like I want everyone to know where I’ve gone. I think that’s why tv shows older ladies saying that they need to go ‘powder their noses.’”

“I’m buying you a book for Christmas.” Stiles grinned. “It’s called ‘Everybody Poops.’” 

“Gross.” Allison’s nose scrunched up at him. “Also, I think I still have that book from when I was younger.”

“You actually have it?” Stiles burst out laughing. 

Allison rolled her eyes, batting at him again. Her cheeks were red, but there was a smile on her face. “I don’t know why I tell you anything. Ever.”

“Because I’m your best friend for life.” Stiles nodded. 

Scott cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly and looking back and forth between them. “I… thought I was your best friend?” He said hesitantly, grimacing a little.

Allison went a bit pale and cleared her throat. “Uh. Oh, I’m - you can have more than one best friend.” She told him gently. “It’s - you’ll always be his best friend, that’s never going to change. And he’s known you for a lot longer. I just… we kind of went through a lot together, and… it’s hard not to want to be close after that?”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed quickly. “Trust me, you’re lucky you didn’t go through that.” He told Scott. “Gerard is such an asshole. One day, if somebody else hasn’t already done it? I’m going to kill him.’ He glanced at Allison. “And I don’t think you’re bothered by that.” 

Allison shook her head. “I think my parents already have plans to do it.” She admitted, looking between both boys. “My dad… he was really angry. He just couldn’t say anything in front of your dad legally.”

Scott shifted again. “That’s…” He exhaled. “I’m sorry you guys went through all of that.”

“I am, but I’m also sort of not.” Stiles held his hand up, the way Dean always did to stop him from interrupting, before he even realized he was doing it. He laughed, embarrassed. “I mean, it sucked. But I got a great friend out of it and somebody who’s willing to teach me stuff that my dad won’t.” 

“Or can’t.” Allison added, thinking of some of the things that Dean had already shown them. The Sheriff was fully capable of handling a firearm, but she was pretty sure that he had absolutely no grasp of archery.

“Yeah, for one reason or another.” Stiles smiled, thinking of how he had learned how to pick locks and exactly why his dad wouldn’t have dared teach him such a thing. “We should find a way to put our skills to good use. Just to test them.” 

“Like what?” Allison asked.

“What skills, exactly?” Scott looked curious. “What did you guys learn?”

“Um.” Stiles turned toward Scott. “We’ve learned how to get out of situations like what Kate and Gerard put us into. But it’s not like we can prove to ourselves that we can do it, you know? And it’s not like I want to get kidnapped ever again.” 

Scott looked back at him innocently. “So… how do you wanna prove it, then?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles laughed. 

Allison looked thoughtful, and she looked at Stiles. “Maybe we could… get _someone_ to help us set something up? A controlled area where we can practice, and where we aren’t really in any danger if we screw up?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, we should talk to them about that this weekend.” He agreed. “Or we could see if my dad’s home and maybe he’d set up something?” 

Allison grinned. “Yeah, that too.” She nodded.

“Okay.” Stiles turned and hugged Scott. “We have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, dude.” 

Scott hugged Stiles back, trying not to look too disappointed. “Okay. See you tomorrow.” He agreed. He smiled shyly at Allison and gave her a tiny wave.

Allison cleared her throat and smiled as well, waving back. “Bye, Scott. See you tomorrow.”

Stiles walked back down the steps of the porch, turning to wait for Allison. “It could be like one of those games where you have to escape the room. I play those online all the time. But we’d probably have to start off being handcuffed or tied up or something.” 

Allison nodded, looking game. “We could maybe even involve my dad in this. I mean… he and Dean are both hunters, they could help your dad figure things out, you know, what to set up, how to set it up, what kind of challenges they want to put us through.”

Stiles held his hand out to Allison. “I wonder if they’ll let us help each other. Probably not. We’ll probably have to work alone, to prove that we can. And be timed?” 

Allison grabbed his hand tightly in hers. “Maybe. Probably.” She shrugged. “But maybe we could do practice runs together and separate before we have to be timed doing that.”

Stiles smiled. “I bet your dad would buy a warehouse and convert it into test rooms or something, if we asked him to.” 

Allison looked intrigued at the idea, grabbing his arm with her free hand. “Oh! We should totally ask him to!”

**

Two weeks into summer vacation, Stiles was riding his skateboard around the neighborhood when a black van pulled up beside him. In a matter of seconds, he was blindfolded and had his hands bound behind his back, and he felt a little angry at himself for being pleased about it. He had expected it to happen sooner or later, but that didn’t mean that this particular instance was the one that he had been hoping for. It could just as easily be a real kidnapping situation. He stayed silent, focusing on every twist and turn that the vehicle made. When the van stopped, he heard gravel crunching under the kidnapper’s feet before he was ushered into a building. He counted his steps and listened for anything that would indicate that he was passing a window, like birds chirping or traffic driving past the building. He was forced to sit down in a chair and his ankles were secured to the chair legs. 

“Ordinarily, this isn’t something that’s done until a hunter turns eighteen, and they’re on their own.” Chris spoke, not bothering to disguise his voice. “But certain circumstances have made it more imperative to test you at an early age, so you get to work together. There’s still a lot that you need to learn, but this will give us a better idea of what your strengths are. Your time starts as soon as the door closes behind me.” 

Stiles heard Chris’ footsteps receding before the door clicked shut and locked him in. He bit his lip, thinking. “Ally?” 

Allison panted softly, fighting back the small tremor in her voice. “I’m here. I’m… trying to calm down, but I’m here, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Stiles murmured. “I’m going to try to loosen the ropes around my wrists. I don’t know about you, but I can’t see anything. It was about forty steps from the doorway, into here. And I don’t think there were any windows. If there are, they’ve blocked them or soundproofed the building or something.” 

Allison breathed out slowly. “I can’t see anything either.” She told him. “I definitely know we were brought downstairs, it felt like we were descending. I haven’t tried to loosen my ropes yet, but Dad isn’t going to make this easy on us. I wish I’d actually brought something with me to cut through it.” She huffed. 

“Well, we didn’t want this to be easy, remember?” Stiles laughed softly. “Okay, this is probably going to hurt me, but it has to be done, I think. Don’t freak out if you hear a crashing noise, but do freak out if I don’t answer after you hear it.” He leaned to his left, tipping the chair onto the left two legs for a few seconds, before it fell sideways. 

Allison winced. “Anything? Did it work?” She asked.

“Yeah. My shoulder hurts like hell right now.” Stiles muttered, but he smiled as he said it. He freed one of his hands from the ropes, giving him the ability to move both hands to his face, to remove the blindfold. He untied his ankles and got up, removing Allison’s mask, next. “Hey.” 

Allison blinked up at him, and then smiled in relief. “Hi.” She said softly. “Okay, so we know one thing - if we were doing this separately, I’d be failing really hard.”

“Well, part of the problem is that you weren’t ready.” Stiles said gently. “We’ll both have to start carrying stuff with us that can help, you know? We’ve got all summer to get better, too.” 

Allison nodded. “Definitely need to equip a knife. A Swiss army thing, at the very least.” She looked down and tugged at the ropes, squirming a little and rocking sideways until she was on the floor, the ropes finally loose.

“I could’ve helped you.” Stiles laughed. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Allison wriggled her way out of the ropes, peering up at him. “I know.” She replied. “But I have to be able to do this, too.” She stood up, smiling. “I can’t always expect you to be there. If we ever get kidnapped again, chances are, they’d keep us separate.”

“Good point.” Stiles murmured. “Okay, now we just need to get out of the room. The door’s locked, so...” He crouched down, taking a couple of hairpins out of his sock. “I know they probably smell gross and they might be sweaty.” He made a face. “But I’ve been trying to keep stuff where people won’t look for it, since I decided I want to do this. I need a better method, though.” 

“We’ll figure something out.” Allison reached for a set of the hairpins without hesitation. “I could probably take to wearing a set in my hair, like… in my ponytail or something.”

“At this point, I wouldn’t rule out wearing them in _my_ hair.” Stiles grinned. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Allison grinned, reaching for his hand and holding on tightly as she headed toward the doorway. Bending her knees a little, she worked the hairpins into the keyhole with a furrow on her brows. She managed to keep her hands and breathing steady, and then finally she heard a small ‘click’ and grinned. “Come on.”

Stiles ran through the building with Allison, skidding to a stop when he saw the group of adults waiting for them. 

Chris clicked the stopwatch and looked at them. “Twenty minutes isn’t terrible, given the circumstances. I think you can do better, though. We didn’t tie the ropes as well as we could have. But you’ll have time to prepare.” 

Stiles nodded, his expression solemn. “We’ll do a better job next time, definitely.” 

“We’ll remember to actually carry tools on us next time, too.” Allison added, sighing and looking a little disappointed. If she hadn’t spent so much time freaking out, maybe they could’ve gotten out faster. 

“Hey!” Stiles blurted, frowning as he turned toward her. “We were awesome. We’ll just be more awesome next time.” 

“Yeah, you two were great.” Dean smiled at Allison. “Don’t be upset, you’re eleven, for fuck’s sake. Just quit worryin’ about it and come on, we’ve gotta make sure you don’t repeat fourth grade.” 

“Right.” Allison nodded, exhaling deeply. Their words didn’t automatically make everything better - she still felt that niggling uncertainty in the back of her mind that said she could’ve done much better, but she did her best to push the feeling away. “Studies are important, don’t want to be kept back.” She smiled at Dean winningly. “So what should we work on?”

“Everything.” Dean laughed. “Come on. Both of you.” 

Stiles hugged his dad and got into the Impala. He was looking forward to more lessons in everything and the chance to show everyone that he and Allison could improve. 

Allison exhaled and hugged her dad as well before she climbed into the Impala beside Stiles. She watched Sam settle into the front passenger seat. “Have you both got something planned?” She asked curiously, leaning back against the seat and glancing at Stiles. 

“Not yet.” Dean muttered. “But if we haven’t heard from our dad by the time you guys go back to school in August, we’re gonna have to go find him.” 

Sam glanced back at them. “Not that I want to leave.” He said quietly. “But he’s our dad.”

“Well, we hope you find him.” Stiles nodded. “So you can come back, or maybe not even leave at all, but also punch him in the face.” 

Dean burst out laughing. “Yeah, it might happen.” He shrugged. 

Sam grinned faintly. “If ‘might’ actually means ‘definitely’.” He said. 

Allison nodded. “He deserves it.” She told them. “Your dad is kind of a butthead.”

“If ‘kind of’ means ‘completely’.” Stiles smirked, echoing Sam. “The only person who deserves to be punched more than your dad is Gerard Argent.” 

“Yeah, get in line.” Dean muttered. 

**

All of the studying over summer vacation paid off, and Stiles and Allison were able to go to fifth grade with Scott. Stiles missed Dean and Sam, but he understood why they left. He just focused on keeping his grades up, certain that if he slipped, Dean would show up out of nowhere and smack him. The work felt like it was harder, but he took it as a challenge. He still ran a mile a day with Allison and made time for Scott, and sometimes he felt exhausted, but he was happy. 

Allison looked over at Stiles, her eyes soft. “How do you think they’re doing?” She asked. She missed Dean and Sam too, and she hoped that they would come back soon. 

“I think they’re okay.” Stiles nodded. “They can’t take too much longer. Sam wants to be a lawyer, and he has to go back to Stanford for that. So yeah, Dean will come home, too.” He glanced down at his worksheet, then looked back up at her. “Okay. I’ve been researching since we got back, and there are just more questions than answers. I know that iron can hurt fae, but I don’t get why that works? But some people are allergic to metal, so maybe it’s just the same thing? Maybe there are genetic markers or whatever. If that’s true, though? Then we can analyze DNA to figure out what kind of crime someone might commit _and_ we can build better weapons, to be ready to stop them. Dean made a Walkman into an EMF meter, and he showed me how to do it. And your dad has stuff to make bullets and arrowheads. Maybe we’re too young to really hunt, but we’re smart. We can come up with better methods for everything. We can make sure our parents all stay safe, and Dean and Sam, too.”

Allison nodded in approval. “Yes, we can.” She said. “We can keep improving on everything we do, too. There’s no such thing as perfect, but we can get pretty close to it.”

“I want to go talk to the Hales, too. You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want to. But I was looking at the bestiary that your family has and I feel like a lot of it is crap. I want to see if the Hales will possibly verify stuff for me. I don’t want to hurt them and I think they’ll know that.” Stiles shrugged. 

Allison looked intrigued. “Okay. Yeah, I can come with you. I kinda feel like everything in the bestiary doesn’t tell the whole story, too. It’s like they deliberately wrote it as vaguely as possible, or as biased as possible so that no one would ever question anything in it, ever.” She scowled faintly. “Which, if there were other people like Gerard in my family, I can absolutely see happening. Asking the Hales is smart.”

“Thanks.” Stiles grinned. “I was worried you’d hate the idea. So, today?” 

“Yes.” Allison replied. “I think as soon as possible would be best, right?”

Stiles’ expression brightened. “We’re gonna be an even better team than Dean and Sam, because we’re good at thinking the same way.” 

Allison grinned widely at him. “They do kind of argue each of their sides a lot, don’t they?” She giggled, leaning against Stiles for a hug.

Stiles hugged Allison, laughing. “Sometimes I think that it was a good thing that your aunt sucks.” 

“I know.” Allison murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “She just… I wonder if you and I would even be friends if it wasn’t for her. Maybe my parents would still be together, if she hadn’t…” She sighed. “Maybe I wouldn’t even be in Beacon Hills right now.” She pulled back and looked up at Stiles. “I’m glad I am.”

“Me too.” Stiles nodded. 

Allison sighed softly and backed away a little, reaching out to take his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Stiles walked down the hall and outside with Allison, unlocking his bike from the rack and laughing as he looked at her. “I really hope that we’re not about to get into another training session. It would ruin our plans for the day.” 

“Oh, god, yeah.” Allison laughed. She unlocked her own bike and climbed on, bracing herself a little with one foot as she looked over at him. “Dad’s probably watching us pretty frequently, so…” She looked around, and then said out loud, clearly, “We should get going. The Hales should be expecting us.”

Stiles laughed again, but he stopped when Chris Argent’s black SUV practically screeched to a halt in front of them. “Holy shit.” 

Chris gave Allison and Stiles an unimpressed look. “The Hales?!” He demanded. 

Allison looked back at him calmly. “Yes. The Hales. We thought it would be a good idea to put some things in perspective between what hunters believe, and what the people they hunt believe.”

Chris started to protest, then looked gobsmacked. “All right, go ahead. But you had better be home by eight or I’m going to set their house on fire myself.” He muttered. 

Stiles shook his head, one eyebrow raised. “Should I call my dad about your threat now, or should I wait until I smell smoke?” 

“You could always not tell him.” Chris remarked. 

“Are you seriously asking me to lie to my dad?” Stiles smirked. “Because you don’t want him to break up with you, right? You haven’t even had your first date yet, and that would suck for you.” 

Allison did her best to fight off a laugh, staring at her father and waiting to see his reaction. It was funny to her that adults always thought that they were so sneaky - her dad definitely was, but only when it counted. She knew Stiles had probably caught on to what was going on much faster than she had, but even she’d been able to tell that her father and John spending more time together didn’t entirely have anything to do with Stiles and herself being trained.

Chris looked mortified. “Just hurry up and then go home.” He blurted, driving away. 

Allison turned her head to look at Stiles, her lips trembling in the effort to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

Stiles didn’t bother holding back his laughter. He shook his head. “It’s okay, it just means we’re probably gonna end up sharing a house sometime soon, probably. I told my dad it was okay if he wanted to date somebody. It’s been a few years since my mom died, but I know she wouldn’t want him to be miserable.” 

“I know a part of me keeps wishing that my parents would reconcile, but… they wanted different things. I can’t be upset with either of them for wanting that, and wanting different things, you know?” Allison shrugged a shoulder, and then looked at Stiles, smiling. “But I didn’t think about that, us living together. That would be so cool!”

Stiles nodded. “It makes more sense, too. We’re always in the same place, anyway. We might as well just make that a permanent thing.” He started riding his bike in the direction of the Hale house, glancing over his shoulder every few minutes to make sure Allison was behind him. 

Allison followed him easily, smiling to herself at the idea that she and Stiles might eventually end up living together. There wasn’t a thought in her head that made her more excited than the thought of living with her best friend.

When they got to the Hale house, Stiles got off of his bike and stared up at it. It wasn’t the massive mansion that everyone in school insisted it was, but it still felt like somewhere he probably shouldn’t be. He looked over at Allison. “Do you have your Swiss Army knife?” 

Allison stared up at the house in awe, but nodded at Stiles, reaching into her backpack for it. “Yeah,” she murmured, waving it in the air. “Do you have yours?”

Stiles patted his pocket. “I keep it in my backpack while we’re at school, but the first thing I do after school is put it in my pocket. You should probably put yours in your pocket, too. Just in case.” 

Allison nodded, slipping it into her pocket distractedly. “They know we’re here.” She laughed softly. “That’s the only reason they haven’t come to the door, I bet. Either that, or no one’s home.”

“Cars are in the driveway, but yeah, maybe?” Stiles left his bike on the front lawn and walked up to the door, knocking insistently. 

A slim, older man appeared behind them, leaning against one of the many trees strewn across the front lawn. “Didn’t you hear the girl? No one’s home.” He said teasingly, his lips twitching.

Stiles turned around, giving the man an assessing look. “You’re Peter Hale.” He said calmly. “And you’re home. Does that mean you’re a nobody?” 

“Technically.” Peter replied. “It’s my job to be, so… yes, I’m a nobody.” He grinned and quoted, “‘Are you nobody, too?’”

Stiles frowned. “Um, I feel like I should know this, but I’m ten. Look, we just came here to ask you guys some questions, and then we’re going home.” 

Peter stood straight, then, tilting his head curiously at them. “Well. Go ahead, ask me.” He smiled faintly and shrugged. “My sister actually isn’t home, and the kids have after-school crap to do, so I’m, sadly, your best bet.”

“Okay, but... you stay where you’re at.” Stiles demanded. “Because I know about werewolves and I don’t want to get murdered. Plus, my dad is the Sheriff and he knows about werewolves, too.” He took a deep breath, knowing he was going to have a lot to say, and as quickly as he possibly could. “Okay. A few months ago, Allison and I got kidnapped by her aunt, because she’s a stupid bitch, and then she tried to set your house on fire, but you killed her. The thing is, we don’t like the way a lot of hunters are, but we want to protect ourselves, so we’re learning how to do it. But we’re not going to hurt you unless you hurt us, first. Anyway, there’s a big book with all kinds of information in it about werewolves and demons and all sorts of stuff. A bestiary. But we think a lot of the stuff in there is wrong, and we wanted to know if you would tell us true things. It was stupid that they tried to kill you guys, but if they try it again and we know what they did, we can help fix it. And stop them.” 

Peter studied them both for a moment. He stayed in the same position, leaning back against the tree, and then said, “While it’s true that the girl’s aunt was stupid in her attempt to kill us all… none of what a hunter’s bestiary says about us was the reason for her doing it. She made the attempt because she was headstrong and confident, and - frankly, because she liked it.” His gaze was severe as he looked down at them. “Most of what is written in a bestiary - and yes, I have several copies of different ones, all copied or stolen from different families - is written with the intent to protect humans from the most violent creatures that exist. Sadly, that includes werewolves. The Argents are unique in that they are primarily werewolf hunters, and through the years, their focus became less, ‘save the innocent’ and more… ‘get them before they get us.’” He glanced at Allison, no apology on his face. “It’s the truth. I’m not entirely certain what happened, but one of the branches of the family decided that the only good werewolf was a dead werewolf, and changed the narrative of the Argent bestiary to reflect that.” He tilted his head. “Other Argents - like your father - held tight to their code. If a supernatural creature harmed an innocent, then they would deal with it accordingly, but people like your aunt and your grandfather… Well.” he trailed off, grimacing. Allison was around Cora’s age, and Peter was already risking Chris coming after him with everything he’d already said. 

“We already know all of that.” Stiles assured Peter. “I was thinking of making my own book, though. Maybe even just a regular journal or something. I know somebody who has one that his dad made, but it’s really not organized.” 

Peter looked intrigued. “Oh?” He said curiously. “Well. I can’t let you into the house while Talia’s away, but once she arrives, she’ll want to meet you. After that, I can show you my books.”

Allison leaned against Stiles, thinking. “I’m willing to stay.” She said after a moment. “Unless she’s going to be gone for awhile, but even then, I’m willing to come back and meet her.”

“Yeah, we’ll wait. But we have to be home by eight o’clock.” Stiles glanced at his watch. “What time is she supposed to get here?” 

Peter glanced at his watch. “In about fifteen minutes. Or less. Depends on how fast she’s managed to run down a stag for dinner.”

Allison blinked, and then stared at Peter with wide eyes. “Wait. Really? She’s out there right now, hunting deer?”

Peter grinned and replied, simply, “She’s an alpha werewolf.” 

Stiles smiled and sat down on the steps to wait. 

A few minutes later, Talia walked out of the woods, carrying a large deer like it was weightless. She nodded to Peter, eyeing the kids warily. “What have I missed?” 

“We have two young hunters-in-training that would like to learn about the supernatural and what they should expect.” Peter smiled crookedly. “Rather than relying on a book written by stodgy, lying old bastards with a bias.”

“Interesting.” Talia smiled back at her brother. “Well, get the door open for me.” She looked at Stiles and Allison. “You two can come in, but you’re going to have to suffer through watching me prepare this for dinner.” 

Peter reached for the door, holding it open for Talia as he glanced back at the preteens. 

Allison looked at Stiles, looking a little hesitant, but she nodded eventually. “I think I can do that.” She hoped she could - she’d never watched anyone prepare a deer before. 

Talia went into the kitchen, gesturing for everyone to sit down as she got a knife out of the drawer. “You’re planning to be hunters, you’re going to have to deal with unpleasant things.” She said calmly, getting straight to work. “So go ahead and ask your questions, and take notes if you need to. No recording me, though. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. 

Allison nodded too. “Yes, ma’am.” She murmured, jumping a little when she realized that Peter was leaning on the counter behind them, watching Talia work. She blinked rapidly for a moment, and then shook her head. “You’re really creepy, did you know that?”

Peter turned his gaze toward her and smirked. “I’ve been told.”

Stiles glanced at Peter, then looked away, keeping his head down as he looked at the list of things he had written earlier in the day. He didn’t care that his dad might start dating a guy, but he hadn’t ever given much thought to his own interest in them, and there _was_ an interest. Peter was obviously too old for him and he didn’t need to think about him, ever again. “Werewolves have allergies, sort of. Right? Wolfsbane and mountain ash?” 

“And mistletoe.” Peter added, his gaze moving from Allison to Stiles. “Though to be fair, wolfsbane and mistletoe affect humans just as badly as it affects us. There are just different methods of recovering from the poison involved.”

“Okay.” Stiles quickly scribbled that information down. “What about antidotes?” 

“Well, with wolfsbane, we can use ashes from the same strain to counteract the effect.” Talia dragged her forearm across her forehead to get a lock of hair out of her face. “Mountain ash, for the most part, just needs time to leave a werewolf’s system. And mistletoe poisoning can be cured by drinking tea. Not just any tea, but we have a few varieties that we keep on hand here, just in case. Babies, no matter what their DNA is, will try to eat anything.” She smiled. “How are the two of you doing, after your time away from here?” 

Stiles blinked. He had no idea that the Hales knew much of anything about him and Allison being kidnapped. “Um, we’re okay. We’re making sure that it never happens again, though.” 

“Wise decision.” Talia nodded. She studied Stiles for a long moment, then spoke again. “Do you think your dad would like venison? We have plenty and you’re more than welcome to take some home.” She looked at Allison, next. “You, as well.” 

“Uh... I’m trying to keep my dad away from red meat, as much as possible.” Stiles said gently. “But thanks, anyway.” 

“Three ounces of venison has a hundred and thirty-four calories and three grams of total fat.” Peter told them. “Much leaner than beef. It’s actually healthier for your father.”

“Oh.” Stiles nodded. “Then, yeah, I’ll take some home. You could probably just give Allison’s steaks to me, too. Our dads are going to start dating soon. I heard them talking about it.” 

“Really?” Peter straightened a little, staring at Stiles and frowning. A look of disappointment crossed his face. He glared at the counter, sulking a little. 

“What’s wrong?” Stiles blurted. “Hey, are you - you’re not homophobic, are you? Because that’s kind of stupid, not liking somebody for something that’s not in their control.” 

Talia laughed. “Peter’s far from having issues with gay men.” She smiled. “He is one, after all. Sorry to out you, little brother.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand at his sister. “Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled. He wasn’t bothered by being outed - he honestly didn’t care who knew, but he couldn’t help being bothered by the fact that the town sheriff was interested in someone else, and it wasn’t him. Another part of him was seething at the thought that he hadn’t gotten to Chris Argent first, some stupid, kind part of him wanting to wait until the man had gotten over the break-up of his marriage and the reappearance of his daughter to make a move. 

Stiles openly stared at Peter, then wrinkled his nose. “Eww.” 

Allison dropped her face into her hands, giggling helplessly. 

Talia smiled as she set a plastic shopping bag down in front of Stiles, full of wrapped steaks. “Peter can drive you both home, and it would be faster than taking your bikes.” 

Allison looked curious. “Does he have room for our bikes in his car?” She asked, glancing at the older man who seems to be muttering to himself under his breath. 

“He does.” Talia nodded. “And I’d like it if you could come by again, maybe when my children are home? I do appreciate that you’re trying to get to know us instead of just assuming that we’re vermin.” 

Allison smiled shyly. “What my aunt - what Kate tried to do to you was wrong. What Gerard believes is wrong. Stiles and I want to…” she glanced at Peter. “We want to change the narrative.”

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, we’re just trying to protect ourselves. And this town. Like my dad does.” 

Talia walked around the table and hugged both preteens. “Thank you.” She said softly. “Now go home and have a good dinner, and I’ll see you later. I’m sure Peter can handle the arrangements for that.” 

Peter grunted, but nodded at Talia. “Let’s go.” He murmured to Stiles and Allison, starting toward the door. 

Allison followed, waving at Talia as she went. “Bye, Mrs. Hale!”

Stiles echoed Allison’s sentiment as he followed her outside, the plastic bag clutched in his hand. “So, how long have you liked my dad? Or Allison’s dad? You like one of our dads.” 

Peter was silent until he’d finished loading their bikes into his car and had climbed into the front seat. His face was red. “Both of them.” He muttered. “For awhile.”

“Hey, no judgment from me!” Stiles blurted. “They’re both awesome and anybody who doesn’t see that can sit on a rake or whatever.” He shrugged. “But if you like them, you’d better say something fast.” 

“What would be the point?” Peter snorted. “You said they’ve been talking about being in a relationship with each other. Doesn’t really sound like either one of them would drop the other just because I come calling.”

“Or?” Stiles countered. “We live in a world full of werewolves and demons and stuff, and that can be kind of scary, and also kids keep getting kidnapped or families might get set on fire while they’re just trying to sleep. So maybe there’s no point in sticking to what society says is the right thing. It wasn’t that long ago that if your skin was dark, you couldn’t even drink out of the same water fountain as somebody whose skin was light, and that was fucking stupid, too.” 

“Let me get this straight.” Peter looked at Stiles in his rear view mirror for a moment, furrowing his brows. “You’re outright suggesting that I ask both of your fathers for a relationship. At the same time. All three of us together.” He squinted. “And you think they’d go for it?”

“Well, my dad might be sketchy about it for a little while.” Allison murmured. “But he’d ultimately do what makes him happy. And if he knew you liked him, I think that would make him kinda happy.”

“My dad really loved my mom.” Stiles added. “He probably still does, even. And she was mentally ill for awhile, before she died.” He huffed in frustration, trying not to cry because he missed her. “He had to deal with a lot, trying to take care of me and do his job and take care of her and pay the bills and everything else. So yeah, if he dates two people instead of one, and that means that half the love he had for my mom goes to you and the other half goes to Allison’s dad, then that’s okay. As long as you help make sure that he stays healthy and isn’t sad. Even if he says no. Because if you care about him, you should still care about him, even if you don’t get to date him.” 

Allison leaned against Stiles, hugging him and resting her head against his shoulder sympathetically. 

Peter directed his eyes back to the driveway, staring quietly as he backed the car out and onto the road. He felt a bit confounded that a ten year old understood so much more than he felt like he could; but he did suppose that if anyone know Chris Argent and John Stilinski better than anyone, it would be their children. He gave a short nod, glancing at Stiles once more in the rear view. 

Stiles smiled back at Peter, putting his arm around Allison. “I’m okay.” He murmured. 

Allison smiled up at him softly, her arms wrapping around his middle. “I know.” She said softly, and she sighed and relaxed. 

Stiles watched as they passed houses and other buildings. “Almost home.” He mumbled. 

“Okay.” Allison said softly, sounding sleepy. “D’you think my dad will…” She yawned. “Be at your house with your dad?”

“More than likely.” Stiles grinned. He got out when Peter pulled up in front of his house. 

Peter stared at the house warily, glancing over at Stiles, and then Allison as she slid out of the car. “I, uh… I’m going to drop by some other time.” He murmured. 

“Just come on, ‘fraidy wolf.” Stiles grinned. 

An offended look immediately crossed Peter’s face. “I’m not afraid! I just… don’t want to interrupt anything. That’s all.”

Allison grinned as she moved to stand next to Stiles. “Okay, sure. But to be fair, our dads are expecting us home around now, so… logistically, we wouldn’t really be interrupting much.”

Chris walked outside, eyeing Peter’s car curiously. “Everything all right?”

Allison leaned in to hug him in greeting. “Hi, Daddy. Everything’s fine. Also, Peter wanted to talk to you and Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles and I are going inside!” She said cheerfully, grabbing Stiles’ hand and tugging him into the house.

Chris shook his head, moving around to the trunk and gesturing for Peter to open it, so he could retrieve the bicycles. “Thanks for bringing them home. Here.” He corrected himself, smiling. 

Peter smiled back crookedly, pressing the button to pop the trunk. “It - was no problem, really.” He assured Chris. “I didn’t mind. They’re great kids.”

“Yeah.” Chris lifted Allison’s bike out of the car and put the kickstand down, then reached for Stiles’ bike. “Once they get an idea in their heads, there’s no talking them out of it. At least they’re not doing dumb things like I did, as a kid.” 

“Yeah?” Peter’s lips twitched. “What sort of dumb things did you do?” He asked curiously, an intrigued expression on his face.

“I stole my dad’s car when I was about twelve.” Chris admitted, laughing. “I’d already known how to drive for a couple of years, at that point. I just wanted to go visit some friends in the last place we’d lived. It was about a hundred miles away and I made it maybe halfway there before a cop pulled me over and said the car had been reported stolen. I was cooking and cleaning everything in the house for the next month." 

Peter’s lips turned up. “Chris Argent, bad boy.” He teased. 

“Well, what about you? I don’t see you growing up following all of the rules.” Chris remarked.

“That would be because the day I follow the rules is the day that Lucifer reappears from Hell, wanting to apologize to God and go to Heaven again.” Peter snorted. “I’m the least likely person you’ll ever see doing what authority says.” He paused as his mind blanked, and he thought of a certain authority figure he wouldn’t mind following orders from.

Chris smiled knowingly. He had made a habit of paying attention when he was being watched, and he knew Peter had been keeping an eye on him, and not just to protect his family. “If you say so.” 

Peter’s cheeks flushed, but his lips twitched up. “I do say so.” He laughed, staring at Chris intently. “I say quite a bit.”

Chris was tempted to invite Peter in, but it wasn’t his house and he wasn’t sure where John stood on the issue of polyamory. “Well, in any case... thanks.” He repeated. 

Peter nodded, staring back at Chris. “It wasn’t - I mean. No problem. I, uh. Maybe I could come by some time. And… maybe you could say hi to John for me?”

“You could say hi to him, yourself.” Chris gestured toward the door. “Right now.” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose…” Peter said softly. A different voice in his head screeched a protest, and he stopped. “But I will.” He added, shutting the car off and getting out with a grin.

Chris chuckled as he carried the bikes to the garage, putting them inside before he shut the garage door and opened the front door for Peter. 

Peter walked into the house, peering back at Chris and looking a little embarrassed but thrilled to be near him. “Is, uh... Are you two… um, together?” He asked hesitantly. “I mean - I’m only asking because… well, you’re here. And your daughter and Stiles mentioned something. And it’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

“We’re giving it a try.” Chris admitted. “It seems kind of idiotic to have two homes, two electricity payments, two water bills, and two of just about everything else when John’s son and my daughter are always in the same place. As it is, we’ve worked out our schedules so that one of us is always available for the kids, and I won’t lie and say that it’s just about practicality. I had an interest and saw fit to mention it when we were talking about combining households, and it was mutual.” 

Peter nodded slowly. “That does make sense,” he admitted. “I don’t, uh… I don’t suppose you’d consider having room for… someone else?”

“Someone else meaning you?” John asked gently, leaning against the wall and watching Peter and Chris. “I don’t hate the thought.”

“I don’t, either.” Chris smiled. 

Peter blinked, and then huffed out a startled laugh. “Okay.” He blurted. “That’s - Okay. You know… your kids are really smart.”

“Did you ask them for advice about us?” Chris laughed. “I don’t know if I’m offended or if I think that’s hilarious.” 

Peter looked embarrassed again. “I didn’t ask them for advice. Not really. But they sure as hell gave it.” He laughed again, quietly. 

John’s lips twitched. “Hmm. I can see how that might happen.” He reached out and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “They’re brilliant kids. You should probably listen to them when they tell you something.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we started working on this chapter, we had a clear goal in mind of letting Stiles and Allison start gravitating toward one another. Then the idea of a costume party came up and things took a turn. We hope not to offend anyone in what's going on with Stiles, or the subsequent chapters involving his character arc, throughout this story. We're doing our best to handle this as delicately as we can, but we're also trying to stay realistic. People don't magically sort themselves out overnight, unfortunately. 
> 
> If you want to leave any feedback, please do so. Just please try to keep it from being cruel. We would prefer not to have to screen comments.

_~~Five years later~~_

Stiles sat down across from Allison at lunch and gave her a rueful smile. “Robin broke up with me.” He murmured. “So I guess my plans for Lydia’s Halloween party are shot to hell.” He had been dating the junior for the past six weeks, and he had been wary at first about having a boyfriend. Even though his dad had two boyfriends, Stiles hadn’t been sure whether or not he was ready to be public about being bisexual. He had that decision taken away from him when Robin told everyone that they were dating, but Stiles had chosen to see that as a good thing, and that it meant that Robin was excited about going out with him. 

Allison stared back at him, her eyes slightly wide. “Um… well. I’m sorry?” She said carefully. She wasn’t sorry. She couldn’t stand Robin and had more than once bemoaned to herself what Stiles found so interesting about him that her best friend continued to date the other boy. “I don’t understand. He was really gleeful about it when you got together. Why did he break up with you?” She furrowed her brow, and then scowled. “Do I need to stab him? Hamstring him? Take out his kneecaps? What did he do?”

Stiles laughed. “He just said that he wants to date someone else. I thought about mentioning that polyamory is an option, but I realized I don’t even like him that much. I mean, I do like him, just... not enough to want to hold onto him like that. I’ll be fine. I can go to the party by myself.” 

“Or you could go with me?” Allison suggested. “I mean - not, like, as a date, but… partners in solidarity? The solidarity of single-hood...ed-ness?” She trailed off, frowning. “That sounded like a word when it was in my head.”

“Sure, we can do that.” Stiles agreed. “We can make fun of all of the couples.” 

Allison grinned, nodding. “That’d be a lot of fun.” She laughed. “Not in front of Lydia, though. It might get us in trouble.” She paused and looked at Stiles. “Although… I mean, technically, it’s Mischief Night.”

Stiles’ smile widened. “Tomorrow. But you know how much I love that.” 

Allison grinned a little wider. “Oh, I know.” She murmured. “We should probably make some plans, in that case.”

“Dean told me that he put a fish in the backseat of some idiot’s car, a few years ago. We should do that to Robin.” Stiles laughed. “Okay, I admit it. I’m pissed!” 

“Good!” Allison blurted. “You deserve to be pissed. And we can one-up that. We can pry open his hubcaps and hide the fish inside the tire. He won’t know where the smell is coming from, it’ll drive him insane.”

“Yeah!” Stiles grinned. “Okay, you’ve been hanging around me for way too long.” He laughed. “Peter will buy the fish for us.” After Peter had been dating both of their dads for awhile, the five of them had moved into a house that was larger and closer to the Preserve. Stiles missed his old house sometimes, but it hadn’t been put up for sale. He wanted to live there again, one day. He figured the adults knew that and were keeping the house available for him. He did his best not to cause arguments, but he had learned quickly which parent would be the most supportive to any issue he was having. He took advantage of that knowledge whenever he possibly could. 

Allison grinned. “He will. And when he knows what it’s for, he’ll deliberately buy the absolute stinkiest one he can find. Robin is going to cry, his car will be pretty much ruined, and I’m sure all I’ll be able to do is laugh.” She leaned forward to look at him, patting his hand. “There are worse people I could be hanging around. I’m pleased to always be hanging around you.”

“Well, somebody has to.” Stiles snorted. “Is this thing a costume party?”

“I think so? I want to double check with Lydia before I tell you yes, but it’s Halloween so I’m pretty sure it is.” Allison murmured. 

As though she had been summoned, Lydia sat down beside Allison. “If one more mouth-breather tries to convince me to invite them to my party, I’m going to find a way to get all of them expelled.”

Stiles laughed. “Is this a bad time to ask if costumes are acceptable?”

“Not just acceptable, but encouraged.” Lydia nodded. “I heard you broke up with Robin.”

“He broke up with me.” Stiles corrected. “I’d say it’s because my dick wasn’t big enough, but that would be a lie, and... I’m legitimately sorry that I just said all of that.” He looked embarrassed. 

“No, please.” Lydia said dryly. “Keep talking about how your penis is the greatest penis to ever exist.”

“I can list my reasons alphabetically.” Stiles smirked. 

Allison’s cheeks were bright red. “Any and all of that is more information than necessary.” She blurted, her gaze drifting firmly to the table top. 

“Can you list them in descending order from ‘I am the greatest’ to ‘eh, just okay’?” Scott asked, grinning as he sat down beside Stiles. He smiled winningly at Allison.

Allison sighed, but smiled back. Several years and numerous talks between them where Allison had kindly but firmly explained her disinterest in Scott as anything but a very good friend, Scott still got that look on his face every time he saw her, like he expected that moment to be _the_ moment where she woke up and saw him and their relationship potential. She’d never given into the temptation to date him when she was lonely because she’d never wanted to lead him on when she knew his interest lay much deeper than hers did, no matter how alone she may have felt - which in recent memory, had been when Stiles had been dating Robin. 

“Maybe if you said them in Archaic Latin.” Lydia teased. “That would at least pique my interest for the duration of two seconds. Which I’m sure you’re used to.” She grinned. 

Stiles stared at Lydia until her smile faded. His lips twitched. “A. Average length, while flaccid, is three inches. I’m -“ He laughed when Lydia threw her napkin at him. “Fine, but there’s a whole twenty-five letters after I finish this one!”

“Oh my god.” Allison covered her face and put her head down on the table, her shoulders shaking.

“Dude,” Scott laughed. “I’ve never seen you make anyone go that shade of red before. Not even me. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” Stiles grinned. “I need to figure out a costume for the party.” He rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be amazing.” 

“Is Deadpool one of them? Deadpool should be one of them.” Scott encouraged. “You’d pull it off, easy-peasy.”

Stiles laughed. “I probably would have done that, but I can’t now. It’s what everyone would expect me to do. I feel like that ruins it.” 

“Then pick something that no one would ever expect you to do.” Allison suggested. “Like… um. Well, your dad used to be in the Army, right? Maybe he still has his old fatigues. Or you could go the horror movie route?” Her eyes sparkled, and she made jazz hands. “Awoooo.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, but I have a few ideas. I’ll talk to you about it after school.” 

Allison nodded, laughing. “Okay.”

Stiles sat back and sent Peter a text. ‘Robin broke up with me. Need you to buy fish. These things may or may not be related.’ 

‘When these sort of requests arrive from you, it’s always best to assume that they are indeed related. Having said that, if you’re willing to wait a few days for it to be delivered, I’ve got a particular type of fish in mind that would be perfect for whatever you’re planning. Provided you don’t mind the worst, smelliest fish in the world.’

‘Considering that it’s not for me, I have no problem with that at all.’ Stiles replied. ‘Thanks.’

‘Anytime, Stiles. I never liked that little weasel anyway.’

‘Why not?’ Stiles picked up a couple of french fries and started eating them as he stared at his phone. 

‘He’s more neurotic than Chris, which is impressive. But other than that, I never felt that he was good for you. Of course, I tend to hold you in very high esteem and because of that, I expect anyone you end up with to not be an idiot. Since you said Robin dumped you, clearly he’s an idiot and completely undeserving of you.’

Stiles ducked his head, putting his hand over his cheek because he thought he might be blushing. He had a crush on Peter for all of three minutes when he was ten, but the realization that the older man liked his dad and Allison’s dad was enough of a reason for him to stop feeling that way. It wasn’t that it was Peter complimenting him, it was being complimented at all that made him self-conscious. In a way, he felt angry with Robin for that. Stiles was certain that anyone he dated would know, without a doubt, that he thought they were a great person for a variety of reasons. ‘Thanks.’ He replied finally, then looked up at Allison. “Peter’s ordering something for Robin right now.” 

Allison’s eyes glinted mischievously. She steepled her fingers together and smirked. “ _Ex_ -cellent.” She replied. 

“We’re going shopping after school, to get costumes.” Stiles added. 

“Be at my house at seven.” Lydia gave Stiles a curious look, pouting when he shook his head at her. 

“You’ll see when we get there.” Stiles smiled. 

**

After they went to the store, did their homework and ate dinner, Stiles took a lengthy shower and got dressed in his costume, eyeing his reflection and feeling a little nervous about any of their parents seeing him. He might not be allowed out of the house in what he had on. The green plaid skirt barely covered his butt, and he’d had to shave his legs and chest in order to feel at all like he wasn’t too hairy to wear something that was, honestly, kind of ridiculous. But he thought he looked good. He bit his lip, taking a deep breath before he left his bedroom and walked down the hall to Allison’s bedroom, knocking on the door. “Okay, before you say anything, I know this is kind of stupid.” He blurted. “But I don’t want to have to explain myself. So just... be nice. Okay?” 

Allison let out a soft laugh. “Stiles, we’ve done plenty of stupid things together. I would never judge you. Just come in, okay?”

“Okay.” Stiles opened the door, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Is it too much? Because I’ve got a Deadpool costume as a back-up thing.” 

Allison stared at him, slack-jawed. “Uh. I don’t… there’s not enough of it.” She blurted dazedly, her eyes unwittingly trailed down from his stomach to his legs. 

“Yeah, that was, uh, sort of the appeal when I bought it?” Stiles shrugged. “Like, I don’t - I don’t want to just do what other people expect and this definitely goes beyond anything that someone would think I’d wear, tonight. It’s not even uncomfortable. It’s almost too comfortable.” 

“‘Too comfortable,’” Allison repeated, her eyes locked on him. “That’s… I wasn’t expecting that. But that’s… you look really good.” She gulped. “I mean, really.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah?” He glanced down at the thigh-high stockings, the skirt and the shirt that was tied near the top of his rib cage. He had even bought himself a push-up bra, and thinking about that made him laugh again, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Okay, so... are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” Allison nodded. “Though I feel… um, woefully plain compared to you right now.” She admitted, looking down at her own outfit. 

“You’re so far from plain.” Stiles protested. “You always look beautiful.” 

Allison’s face reddened, and she ducked her head, a small smile crossing her lips. “Thanks, Stiles.” She murmured. Her eyes gravitated toward his stomach again, and she blinked hard, pinching the underside of her thigh to snap out of it. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed quickly. “Uh, just give me a minute?” He went back into his room, snorting derisively at himself as he picked up the purse that matched the skirt he had bought. He didn’t have anywhere else to keep his wallet and he wasn’t going to risk going anywhere without it. Before he left the room, he picked up a container of lip gloss and put some on. After that, he sat down on his bed, needing a minute to process the fact that he had voluntarily put on a costume meant for a girl and he had gone the extra mile with it, and he _liked_ how he looked and felt in it. 

Allison knocked gently on his door, poking her head around the corner. “Stiles?” She murmured. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m starting to think there might be such a thing as ‘too gay.’” Stiles remarked, looking up at her. “That’s supposed to be funny, but it’s not. I’ll be fine.” 

Allison exhaled softly, stepping into the room and sitting beside him. She paused, studying him, and then took his hand in hers. “You look amazing.” She told him gently. “You do. Halloween is supposed to be about… ‘come as you aren’t,’ dressing to push societal norms, and - just having fun. And I’ll be damned if you don’t have fun tonight. It’ll definitely be fun just watching how many awkward erections you give half the boys that’ll be there.”

“That does sound fun. Are you going to keep track?” Stiles made a face as he put the lip gloss into his purse, but he stood up and held a hand out to her. 

Allison grabbed his hand and stood up as well, hesitating for only a second before throwing her arms around him and hugging him. “You know I will. Besides, if Robin’s there? Think of how hilarious it’ll be to watch that weird bulgy vein in his forehead go nuts when he sees you.”

Stiles hugged Allison and smiled. “Yeah, now we just have to get past freaking Cerberus, downstairs.” 

Allison giggled. “Come on. We’ve got a few options. Either I run downstairs and distract them while you run out to the car, or we go out the window.” She paused, looking down at her outfit again. “I mean, I’m not her, but Black Widow would totally go out the window.” She grinned. “Or, option three, we can make them super uncomfortable with a peek at what you’re wearing, and then run for it.”

Stiles grinned. “Three.” He nodded. “How much do you want to bet that your dad and my dad see these shoes and think it’s you, coming down the stairs?” 

Allison chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Dinner. And whatever lip gloss that you’re using because it’s making your lips pop and I’m jealous.”

Stiles laughed. “It was seriously the first thing I grabbed at the store.” He admitted, shrugging. He walked out of his room and down the stairs, careful not to trip on the way down. 

Allison’s lips twitched as she heard John say, “Here they come, here they come,” in a low voice. She followed Stiles silently, waiting to hear the reactions of the men downstairs.

“Allison, sweetheart, you look beauti…” John’s voice froze. “You’re… not Allison.”

“Keenly caught, dearest.” Peter sounded amused. “Stiles. Very brave choice.” There was a pause. “Nice legs, kid.”

“You’d better be carrying a knife.” Chris muttered. “Because not everybody is going to be that accepting, outside of this house.” 

Stiles was determined not to laugh. “It’s in my purse.” He smiled. “Thanks, Dad and Peter, for the compliments.” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you that you’re pretty.” 

Peter elbowed Chris sharply in the side. “Tell Stiles he’s pretty, and then remember that he and your daughter are lethal weapons on their own.” He stared at Chris. “I mean, Allison is literally dressed as an assassin, Chris. They both look amazing, damn well tell them so.”

“Fine. You both look great.” Chris remarked. “Be home by one.” 

Allison approached her father and pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling. “Thanks, Daddy.” She laughed. She did the same to Peter and John, then reached for Stiles’ hand.

Stiles held Allison’s hand, walking outside with her and down the road, toward Lydia’s house. “I think it’s kind of hilarious that your dad is upset that I’m dressed like this, but he’s fine with me knowing how to use a gun and about a dozen other weapons.” 

Allison rolled her eyes. “My dad’s always been weird, you know this. I’m actually surprised that his first reaction was, ‘better protect yourself’ and not ‘get your ass upstairs and change right now.’ Remember the first time I wore skinny jeans and a tank top to school? I thought he was going to go through the roof.” She tilted her head. “Maybe your dad and Peter talked to him?”

“Yeah, probably.” Stiles sent Scott a text. ‘Ally and I are on our way to the party. Are you there yet?’ 

‘Almost.’ Scott replied. ‘I left the house a little bit ago, I forgot how much of a walk it is. Stupid asthma.’

‘It won’t be much longer and I’ll be driving.’ Stiles replied. ‘Dean already fixed the Jeep for when I get my license.’ 

‘Awesome!’ Scott wrote back. ‘I can’t wait, dude.’

Stiles glanced over at Allison. “Scott’s on his way, but he’s taking awhile because of his asthma. If you want to go in, I’ll wait for him.” 

Allison worried at her lower lip. “Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting with you, you know.”

“Okay, how about if you go in, wander around for like, five minutes, and if Scott and I haven’t come in by then, you can come back out and wait?” Stiles suggested. 

Allison smiled crookedly. “Okay.” She murmured, and started backing away toward the front door. “I’m coming back in exactly five minutes.” She pressed, pointing at him. “I’m timing myself, as soon as I walk through that door!”

Stiles laughed. “Okay.” He nodded, turning to watch as other people came up the driveway. 

Allison passed through the front door without another word.

“Looking good, Stilinski.” Danny smiled, passing Stiles as he made his way toward the house. He held his fist out for a fist bump. “Nice legs.”

Stiles grinned, fist-bumping Danny. “Thanks. Hey, do me a favor and say hi to Ally, when you get in there? She seems like she’s spiraling a little bit.” 

“How come?” Danny asked curiously. “I mean, I will, but what makes you think she is? Has she been loopy?”

“Not loopy. Just kind of... not so eager to go much of anywhere without me, lately.” Stiles explained. “And I mean, if it was somewhere else, I’d get it. But this is Lydia’s house.” 

“Huh.” Danny’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ll swing around and say hi to her once I’m in there. You waiting on Scott?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “I might actually go look for him if I don’t see him soon.” 

“You talked to him, right?” Danny asked. “How far away was he?” He looked over Stiles’ shoulder, and then snorted out a laugh. “Never mind.”

Stiles turned around, taking in the sight of his best friend in a green jacket, navy blue t-shirt, khaki pants and red sneakers. He grinned. “Fry!” He called out. “Nice!” 

Scott beamed, waving at Stiles. “I tried to get my hair into the horn shape, but it looked _so_ weird on me, dude. So I just spiked it up.” He stopped and stared Stiles up and down. “Whoa, dude. Look at you! You look awesome!”

“Thanks.” Stiles murmured. “I haven’t even gone in yet. I was waiting for you.” 

Scott gestured at him fondly. “Well, let’s go inside then. Where’s Ally? Is she already in there?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. He turned, walking into Lydia’s house and looking around. It wasn’t his first time there, but he knew that she liked to rearrange furniture when she was having a party. 

Scott followed along, grinning at everyone he recognized, and even at those he didn’t.

“Stiles, I was starting to think you weren’t...” Lydia stopped, mid-sentence. Her gaze lingered on his chest for a moment and she looked up at him. “Are you - have you been using binders this entire time, or is there some other reason...” She pressed her lips together, trying to think of the most polite way to ask what she wanted to know. 

Stiles burst out laughing. “No, I’ve been male since birth. All of that talk about my dick earlier wasn’t posturing. I’m wearing these, uh, cup things? The woman at the store realized what I was trying to do and told me that it would be a good idea. And everything else is taped down.” 

“He looks crazy good, doesn’t he?” Scott grinned. “Is Robin here? He’s going to lose his shit.”

“I haven’t seen him.” Lydia shook her head. “But I did spread the word today that he should reconsider showing up.” 

Scott looked at Stiles. “I kinda hope he shows up. He gets that weird puce color on his face when stuff happens that he’s uncomfortable with.”

“It’s none of his business to be uncomfortable.” Stiles muttered, blinking when Lydia held her hand up to him, but he high-fived her. 

“To be blunt, none of us like him. But you were happy enough.” Lydia looked around. “You should make sure everyone sees you. You look great.” She walked away to refill drinks. 

Scott grinned. “Yeah, you really do.”

Stiles smiled back hesitantly. “Um. Are you going to be okay with me saying that I might do this again at some point, and not for a costume party?” 

Scott tilted his head. “I mean, is that something you think you’d be doing, like, long-term? Something you’d like doing all the time?”

“Not all the time. Not every day. But I mean, I’ve had nothing but compliments and it felt kind of nice to make more of an effort. Mostly, I just get up and wear whatever smells clean.” Stiles laughed. “So maybe I should just quit doing that and see if I feel the same way that I do now, first?” 

Scott shrugged. “I would. I mean, I personally wouldn’t because I don’t really think I’d make the prettiest girl, but you’re really pretty like this.” He blinked, looking alarmed. “That… didn’t sound quite right. That sounded like something from The Hills Have Eyes.”

Stiles snorted and shook his head. “I think you meant it as a compliment, not something crude. That’s not the kind of person you are, anyway.” 

“Of course I meant it as a compliment.” Scott laughed sheepishly. He looked seriously at Stiles a moment later. “But for real - if this is something you want to do for yourself, then do it, dude. You don’t need to give a crap about what anyone else thinks, just care about what you think and what you feel and what you want, you know?”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded, then smiled crookedly. “My dad thought I was Allison, at first.” 

“Well, Allison’s legs are pretty great.” Scott replied, his lips twitching. “And obviously, so are yours.” He gestured down. “How’d he react when he realized you weren’t her?”

“Startled.” Stiles murmured. “And then Peter told me I had nice legs. Chris asked me if I had a weapon because he was convinced that I was going to have to deal with bullshit.” 

“Well. So far, so good.” Scott murmured. “Chris is super paranoid. And Peter’s weird.”

Stiles laughed, nodding. “Yeah, to all of that. I’m going to find Allison. She should have met up with us by now. I don’t like that I haven’t seen her.” He wandered through the house and into the back yard. 

“I really don’t want to have to hurt you.” Allison was saying, her voice low and her eyes narrowed. “But if you don’t back away from me right now, I will. I promise you I will.”

“See, I don’t believe that.” Matt Daehler replied. “I think that you just haven’t given me a chance.” 

“A chance to what?” Stiles interrupted, moving to stand beside Allison. “She told you to fuck off, so go do that.” He smirked. “I just bought this outfit, I don’t want to get blood all over it. But that doesn’t mean I won’t.” He glanced at Allison. “Are you okay?” 

Allison stared at him with soft eyes, nodding. “I’m fine.” She murmured. “Only bothered because some people don’t know how to take a hint.”

“What the _hell_ are you wearing?” Matt practically yelled, staring at Stiles. 

“Clothes.” Stiles retorted. “Okay, I think you need to leave. You can go on your own or you can be carried outside, unconscious. Your choice.” 

“I was talking to -” Matt protested, but he didn’t get any further than that before Stiles punched him. 

Without pausing, Stiles gripped the front of Matt’s shirt as the other boy started to topple backwards, dragging him toward the doorway. “Clear a path.” He called to people blocking the door. “I’m taking the trash out.” 

Several people laughed, and others hooted in encouragement. Allison listened to it all, a vague smile on her lips as she followed Stiles, her eyes glowing in pride and - something else. It almost felt like she’d had the wind punched out of her when she looked at Stiles.

When they got through the house and out to the curb, Stiles let go of Matt’s shirt and turned to face Allison. “We can go back in and stay awhile longer, since we just got here. Or we can leave now.” 

Allison held her hand out to him. “Let’s stay.” She murmured. “Just for a little bit longer. I’d like to have good memories of this party before we leave.”

“Good idea.” Stiles smiled, taking her hand and walking back into Lydia’s house. 

“I’m trying to get things to calm down.” Lydia remarked. “After you hit Matt, I had to break up two screaming matches in the back yard. I’m blaming this on you.” She smiled tensely at Stiles. “Fix it.” 

“Fine, but you’re not going to like it.” Stiles warned her. He went into the kitchen and emptied a beer bottle, then carried it outside. 

Allison folded her arms across her chest, and stared out of the door to the backyard, leaning against the opening thoughtfully. “This might get noisy at first, but it’ll shut everybody up.” She murmured.

Stiles waved a hand at Allison, gesturing for her to come outside. He started to crouch, stopping halfway when he remembered that he couldn’t, so he knelt down instead, glancing up before he called out that they were going to play a game. He sighed in relief when other people came over and formed a circle as they sat down. 

Allison’s lips twitched, but she walked over with everyone else as well, sitting down with her legs crossed. She watched as several other people she knew wandered over, and then looked expectantly over her shoulder at Lydia.

Lydia shrugged as she sat down beside Allison. “I’m assuming we’re going with whoever the neck of the bottle points at?” She asked, smiling when Stiles nodded to her. “Then I’m going first.” She reached out, spinning the bottle and watching it slow down until it stopped, the mouth of the bottle pointing to a guy she didn’t know much about, beyond the fact that he played lacrosse at their school and was friends with Danny. She moved toward him, smiling. 

Jackson smiled back slowly, moving toward Lydia. He lightly pressed his hand against the back of her head and drew her into a kiss.

Lydia kissed back, pulling away after a moment and sitting back down beside Allison. She turned toward her best friend. “Your turn.” 

Allison nodded, taking a deep breath before she reached out and spun the bottle, cringing when she did it a little too hard and it spun faster than she meant for it to. “Crap.” She muttered.

“It’s fine.” Lydia assured her. “Let it go.” 

Allison nodded again, leaning back and watching as the bottle finally began to slow down. She blinked when it came to a stop on Danny. Her lips twitched. “Sorry, Danny. You can pretend I’m Cap, if you want.”

Danny laughed. “Actually, I’m all about Bruce Banner.” He teased, leaning forward to press a light kiss against her mouth.

Allison waved a hand delightedly. “I have the same color hair as him, so yay!”

Stiles watched as more people took their turns and kissed each other without any complaints. He felt a little nervous as he set the bottle spinning, for his own turn. It wasn’t the first party he had ever attended or even the first time he had played this game, but it was the first time he was playing it while wearing a skirt and having just broken up with his boyfriend. He kept his gaze on the bottle as it slowed to a stop. 

Scott’s cheeks flamed bright red as he faced the mouth of the bottle, and then he let out a soft laugh, leaning forward. “Well, I mean, we’ve been stuck to each other like glue since we were kids, so…”

Stiles smiled, ignoring the length - or lack thereof - of his skirt as he braced a hand near the bottle, leaning across the circle to kiss Scott. 

Scott couldn’t help laughing against Stiles’ mouth, though he kissed back. When he pulled away, he was still blushing. “Sorry for laughing.” He murmured. “I didn’t expect this to happen. Tonight, anyway.”

“So you expected it to happen some other time?” Stiles’ eyebrow raised as he looked at Scott. “Seriously?” 

Scott shrugged a shoulder, but nodded. “I mean, I figured we’d be each other’s first kiss, or you’d at least be mine, you know? I’m not saying I’ve been pining for you, you know I’m all about Allison.” He ignored Allison letting out a low, unhappy whine from behind him. “I’m just saying that I figured we’d probably do that. At some point. I didn’t bother thinking about when, ‘cause I didn’t know.”

Stiles laughed. “Okay.” He shrugged back at Scott. “Come get a soda with me.” He didn’t make it a suggestion, standing up and waiting for Scott before he went into the house. 

Scott stood up, looking back at the circle. “Are we going back to play after we get our drinks?” He asked curiously.

“Yeah, and after I tell you that you need to let Allison go. Play the game, kiss whoever you kiss, talk to them and maybe get a phone number. Send a text just to say hi or ask if they’ve got weekend plans. Move on.” Stiles knew he was being an asshole, but he had tried to be polite, and so had Allison. 

Scott was quiet for a moment, staring at Stiles before looking down. “I’m scared to.” He muttered.

“Why?” Stiles opened a couple of cans of root beer, handing one to Scott. 

“Because she’s the only person I’ve ever liked? Like… ever?” Scott sighed, taking the can and staring at it for a moment. “It’s not like I have girls lining up to date me, Stiles. Giving up on Allison, moving on…” He swallowed. “I know I annoy her. I know I’m… I just - I’ve liked her for so long that I feel like I don’t know how to like anyone else.”

“You haven’t tried to like anyone else.” Stiles pointed out. “Come on, drink that and burp, then pop a breath mint and come back outside.” He laughed. “Maybe if I can convince my dad to let me go with Dean and Sam this summer, you can come with us? Then you don’t have to worry about whether or not someone will like you, since you’ll probably only spend a few days with them. You can make out with whoever you want and you don’t even have to call them again if you don’t want to. But let’s face it, you’ll want to.” 

Scott looked interested, nodding slowly. “Hey, maybe.” He murmured, brightening up a little. “It’d be kind of cool, hanging out with you and them.”

“And it’ll keep you away from Ally for awhile and you can get over her more easily.” Stiles added. He chugged his root beer, then rinsed out the can and dropped it in Lydia’s recycling bin. “I’m going back outside. See you in a few minutes?” 

Scott nodded, staring at his can thoughtfully. “Yeah.” He replied. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Stiles went back outside, just in time to take his second turn. He practically flung the bottle, he set it spinning so hard. “Sorry.” He snorted, not the least bit bothered. 

Danny snorted. “What is it with you and Allison tonight?” He teased gently. “It’s like you’re trying to break the bottle.”

“We’re superhuman.” Stiles said dryly. “But you can’t tell anybody.” 

Allison winked. “Top secret stuff here, Danny.”

Danny snorted again. “Yeah, alright.” He returned his gaze to the bottle. 

Stiles grinned when the bottle stopped on Danny. “Hmm, coincidence. Probably. But if somebody else spins the bottle like crazy and it lands on you, I’m going to check you for magnets or something.” He teased, leaning toward Danny and kissing him. 

Danny laughed against Stiles’ mouth, humming in pleasant surprise. “I might have to start using them.” He told Stiles as he pulled away slowly. “If it gets me a kiss like that.”

“You could just ask.” Stiles winked. “You don’t need an excuse.” 

“Quit flirting and let the next person spin!” Jackson muttered, glaring at Stiles. 

“I’m not even touching the bottle, Jackass.” Stiles retorted. “Take your damned turn.” 

Jackson grunted, reaching out to spin the bottle, glowering a little at Stiles. He blinked when the bottle stopped on Scott, who had just taken his seat. 

Scott stared at the bottle, blinking rapidly before looking up. “Uh. Okay.” He said, and then shrugged, leaning toward Jackson. 

Jackson scowled and turned his head toward Scott at the last minute. “Stupid bottle.”

“I think that attitude means that Jackson has to spend seven minutes in a closet with Scott.” Stiles smirked. “Anyone else agree?” 

Allison giggled quietly, raising her hand. “As long as Scott doesn’t mind, of course.” 

Scott grinned. “Why would I mind?”

Jackson glowered and stood up. “Fine.”

Lydia followed them into the house, pointing out a downstairs closet and setting a timer on her phone. “I’ll be outside, but I’m leaving my phone here. When it beeps, you can come back.” 

Scott waved at her, smiling. “Thanks, Lydia.”

Jackson grimaced, but lightly pushed at Scott’s shoulder. “Just get inside.” He muttered. 

Lydia shut the door behind them, then changed the timer to twelve minutes and smiled to herself before she went back outside. She sat down beside Allison, whispering to her. “I gave them almost twice as much time as I said I was going to.” 

Allison covered her mouth with one hand, laughing. “That’s brilliant.” She murmured. 

“Well, Scott doesn’t deserve it, but Jackson does.” Lydia muttered. “I like him, but he needs a little humility.” She watched other people kissing, feeling a little bored. “One more round, and then we’re spinning to see who has to chug a drink.” 

“Bet you anything the first person who has to chug is going to be Jackson when he gets back.” Allison huffed out, grinning crookedly. 

“Danny has magnets or something, he can rig that.” Stiles laughed. He rubbed his hands together and blew into them, then rubbed his thighs. “It’s freezing out here.” 

Allison nudged him, smiling. “You’re the one that decided we should do this outside.” She murmured. “How about, after this round, we’ll head back inside and continue everything there.” She studied him. “Unless we still want to leave early?”

“I don’t know, I’m having fun. I’m not that cold. Besides, I think if I say something, someone else will help me out. Maybe.” Stiles mused. “It seems like that’s possible.” 

“Possibly.” Allison murmured, resisting the urge to lean against him. 

Stiles laughed. “Are you tired?” He put his arm around her. “It’s not even ten o’clock. Maybe instead of alcohol, you should drink coffee.” 

“But… teen experience.” Allison protested, yawning. “Mischief… uh, managed?” She blinked a little as the bottle landed on her, and she looked up to see Cora Hale staring at her from the other side of the circle with a small smirk on her lips. She looked back at Stiles and shrugged a shoulder, smiling. “Teenage lesbian peer pressure from the whims of fate, science, and a glass bottle.” She crawled forward and met Cora in the center, parting her lips to kiss the other girl. 

“Les-“ Stiles blinked. “Did you just out yourself?” He asked Allison. “I thought I was having some kind of awakening, but I guess it wasn’t just me?”

Allison’s lips twitched as she pulled away from Cora and sat back down next to Stiles. “I’m not a lesbian, Stiles. But girls are pretty, and soft.” She leaned back thoughtfully. “Also, I’m definitely not complaining. But it’s primarily boys for me. Like, eighty, twenty.” She paused. “Seventy-five, thirty-five.”

“That’s a hundred and ten percent, Allison.” Lydia smirked. “You should have made time for a nap before the party.”

“Hey, give her a break.” Stiles smiled. “We have other shit to do, like homework and saving the world. And dishes.”

“Saving the dishes is very important.” Lydia nodded, laughing. 

Allison waved a hand, giggling. “On a side note, you’re all very well aware that math has never been my strong suit. But one-ten actually sounds kinda accurate for this revelation.”

Scott eventually made his way out of the house, his lips twitching. “So I think boys are a thing I like.” He declared out loud. “I think Jackson feels a little differently, but we’ve come to an understanding.” He sat back down near Lydia, not even bothering to fight off his grin. 

Jackson followed him back out to the circle, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He was quiet as he sat down. 

“Wow, revelations everywhere tonight.” Allison murmured, letting out a soft laugh. 

“At least I know everyone will be talking about this party until December.” Lydia murmured. 

Stiles took his final turn with the bottle, careful not to spin it as wildly as he had before. 

“They will definitely be talking about this party until then,” Allison murmured to Lydia, nodding as she watched the bottle spin. “And then you’ll top it with an incredible Christmas party, and then an even better New Year’s - oh.” She said softly, blinking rapidly as she looked at Stiles when the bottle came to a stop, the mouth pointing at her. She laughed a little nervously. “Maybe I’m the one wearing magnets. I could’ve sworn I asked for the unofficial Black Widow outfit.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Stiles grinned, turning his head to kiss Allison quickly. 

Allison blinked again, looking confused. “I’m -“ A frown appeared, and she shook her head. “It does too make sense. She has those repulsors in her outfit. I think.” She shifted awkwardly, staring at her best friend. She’d honestly been expecting a kiss to the cheek, or something, and wasn’t quite sure how to feel now. It wasn’t like they frequently kissed each other or anything. 

“I had to, or we’d be in a closet for seven minutes.” Stiles remarked. “Sorry.” He glanced up at Jackson. “Your turn.”

“Right.” Jackson drawled, smirking at them both. He reached out to spin the bottle quickly, watching intently to see who it ended up on. 

Stiles deliberately nudged the bottle, making it stop on Scott. He stood up. “I guess this means I have to go into the closet by myself for seven minutes.” He smirked, going into the house. He had no intention to follow through on the closet idea, he just needed to excuse himself from the situation. Kissing Allison both was and wasn’t the worst thing he had done. He felt weird, like he regretted the kiss, but also regretted how short it had been. He distracted himself from his thoughts by cleaning the kitchen and pouring a dozen drinks for anyone who wanted to turn ‘spin the bottle’ into a drinking game.

Scott wandered into the kitchen after him, studying him from behind. After a moment, he asked softly, “Are you okay?”

“Go kiss your pseudo-sibling, then ask me that again.” Stiles muttered, turning to face Scott. “Not exactly. It was stupid and I should have just refused to do it. But I didn’t want to refuse to do it. So, you know, typical behavior on my part, with the not thinking. Can I stay over at your house? Going home tonight seems weird.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine with me.” He murmured, unsure what to think. “I can get my mom to call your dad? Or, um… we could tell Allison to tell them, I guess.”

“I have my phone in my purse.” Stiles blinked, then burst out laughing, though he was more terrified than amused. He picked up a cup of vodka and orange juice, downing the entire thing and wiping his mouth with his hand. “I feel so fucking dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb.” Scott told him gently. “I feel that way all the time. You know what you say every time I say it. You don’t have any reason to feel dumb, dude. This is just… new. And you haven’t experienced it before. Doesn’t make you stupid.”

Stiles nodded. He sent his dad a text. ‘Staying at Scott’s tonight. I’ll be home tomorrow.’ He looked up from his phone. “Are you having a good time, at least?”

Scott grinned softly. “Freaking Jackson out was a pretty awesome plus to the night, so… yeah.” He said. “Definitely having a good time.”

“Good.” Stiles bit his lip, then took a picture of himself and sent it to Dean. ‘Costume party at Lydia’s. I’ve kissed three people and knocked someone unconscious.’

‘What else happened? You look like somebody told you how Old Yeller ends.’ Dean replied. ‘And you wouldn’t be texting me if you were busy having fun anyway.’

‘One of the people I kissed was Allison.’ Stiles sighed, absentmindedly reaching for a second cup on the counter.

‘We’re in Illinois, but as soon as this case gets wrapped up, I’m coming back for awhile. I promise.’

Stiles smiled to himself, feeling better already. Dean never made a promise unless he meant it. ‘Looking forward to it.’ 

Scott watched him intently. “Good news?” He blinked down at himself and then added, belatedly, “Everyone?”

Stiles burst out laughing and hugged Scott. “You’re a fucking dork and I love you. Dean’s coming back here soon.”

Scott hugged him back tightly, smiling. “That’s awesome, dude. How soon is soon? It’s been awhile since we’ve had him in town. My mom keeps asking about him, and I’m not sure how to answer her. Or how to feel about her asking in the first place.” He looked a bit bewildered. “Like… I think she has a crush on him, dude.”

“Oh. Uh, Dean travels a lot. And he hates airplanes, so he drives everywhere. He’s sort of doing...” Stiles sighed. It was time to tell Scott everything. “We should go to your house to have this discussion.”

Scott looked curious, but nodded slowly. “Okay.” He said, then paused. “Um, do you want me to run out really quick and let Lydia know we’re leaving? If we skip out via text message, I’m seriously thinking she might kill us?”

“Yeah, tell her. And if Ally ends up coming with us, that’s okay. She, uh, probably won’t.” Stiles grabbed the bottle of vodka.

Scott stared at the bottle, then looked up at Stiles and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He ran back outside and knelt down near Allison and Lydia. “Hey, Lyds, Stiles and I are gonna cut out a little early.” He whispered into the redhead’s ear. “He isn’t feeling too hot.” It wasn’t a lie - he could tell Stiles was unnerved by the events of the evening, and honestly, if he kept drinking vodka he would be making himself sick very soon. If he wasn’t already.

“I understand.” Lydia murmured. “Tell him he really does look great and that if there wasn’t such a glaring height difference, I’d give him a few skirts I don’t want anymore.” She grinned. 

Scott choked out a laugh, nodding. “I’ll definitely let him know.” He promised. “It was a great party, Lydia. Thanks for inviting us.” He gave her a brief hug, then smiled at Allison before hurriedly rushing back into the house to find Stiles. “Okay, come on. Ally didn’t say anything. Lydia says you really did look great, and if there wasn’t a chance of flashing everyone every time you moved, she’d give you some of her skirts.”

Stiles grinned, but he didn’t say anything, blushing a little as he walked out through the front door, with Scott. 

Scott couldn’t help draping an arm around Stiles’ shoulder, looking proud as they left, other people watching from spots on the lawn and the porch. “I’m with the most popular dude here tonight. That’s insane. And awesome.” He blurted. 

“They probably also think your sexual awakening had something to do with me wearing a skirt and that we’re on our way to have sex. I don’t care what they think, though.” Stiles smiled. “I’ve heard worse rumors about me.”

Scott nodded. “I don’t care what they say, either. They’d be lucky to think about having sex with you.” He told Stiles loyally. 

Stiles laughed. “I might wear a dress to school, one of these days.” He checked his phone, wondering why he hadn’t heard from his dad. He shook his head, grimacing at the thought that he actually hoped his dad was busy having sex, and that there wasn’t another reason for him to have not responded. “They’ll fucking deal,” he muttered, calling Peter.

“Yes?” Peter answered slowly. “Is there a problem, kiddo? Everything okay?”

“Dad’s not answering, and this crosses a line, but could you just, I don’t know, say the weirdest word you’ve ever heard or something, to confirm that he’s busy for some sort of valid reason that is _absolutely none of my business_ , and not that he’s in trouble or dead? Also, next time I wear a skirt, make me check the weather conditions.” Stiles muttered. 

Peter let out a low laugh. “I can confirm that your father is not in trouble, and definitely is not dead, and not for the reasons you don’t want to talk about or think about. He’s out on call. The department phoned him in - apparently some dumbass, eighteen year old boys decided to add ‘amateur arson’ to their repertoire of stupidity. The fire department put the fire out, but your dad’s downtown right now arresting the little monsters. He’ll be back as soon as he processes them. Probably another half an hour or so.” He paused. “As for the skirt situation, I would recommend trying leggings underneath, yes?”

“I should make fun of you for knowing how to handle this skirt problem.” Stiles snorted. “But I won’t. I’m staying at Scott’s. Ally’s still at Lydia’s, and I think she’s probably just going to stay there tonight.” 

“That’s fine. As long as you phone when you get to Scott’s, and she phones her dad to let him know what she’s doing.” Peter replied. “And I _do_ have a niece that enjoys wearing those clothes, you know. It’s not like I randomly created a solution off the top of my head, you little heathen.”

“I’ve never seen Cora - oh. Laura.” Stiles laughed. “I forgot about her. I’m also a little bit drunk. Don’t tell my dad!” 

Peter snorted. “Why would I say anything to him? It’s much more fun to hold blackmail over your head for when you really mess up.” He teased. 

“Rude.” Stiles muttered, snorting. “Okay. After I get through this hangover, I’m going shopping and coming home.” 

“I’ll be sure to throw your father and Chris both under the bus if you’d like them to go with you.” Peter assured him. “Or at least help guilt them into giving you extra spending money if you’d rather have Allison and Scott with you.”

“Would the three of you actually take me shopping for skirts?” Stiles laughed. “Chris didn’t seem all that enthused about me leaving the house in one.” 

“Chris is a giant, sulky manchild.” Peter quipped promptly. “He’ll fuss for twenty minutes, threaten to withhold money, also threaten to go sit in the car, realize no one cares, and then he’ll sit and sulk in dressing room chairs, or he’ll follow the rest of us, also sulking, but actually give valid opinions.” He went silent for a beat. “But yes, we would take you shopping. I would, anyway. It might take some work with your dad, but he would very obviously move the earth for you if he could, so it shouldn’t take too much to get him on board.”

“Right.” Stiles murmured. “Okay, I’ll call you when I wake up.” He hung up the phone, dropping it back into the purse and looking over at Scott. “I can’t believe I have to wait three years to be legally able to do everything on my own. I feel like every adult I know is a fucking headcase.” 

Scott snorted. “My mom’s not.” He protested. “At least, I don’t think she is. Maybe she’s weird when I’m not looking.”

“If she’s got a crush on Dean, she’s a little bit weird.” Stiles smiled. “Allison used to like him, but it was probably some kind of hero worship thing.” 

“Well, I mean… I guess he’s kinda hero-worthy.” Scott mumbled, shrugging a shoulder. At least he isn’t abusive. Or a drunk.”

“He brought me and Allison home, when we were in fourth grade.” Stiles nodded. “I think that qualifies him, yeah.” 

“Definitely.” Scott rubbed a hand over the back of his head, thinking and then shrugging. “I guess there are worse people my mom could crush on.” He admitted. “At least Dean’s nice to her when he sees her.”

“Well, she has a vagina.” Stiles grinned. “I know that’s cruel, but that’s the truth. Dean doesn’t care what a woman looks like, as long as she’s actually female. It sounds awful, but I actually respect him for it. And as long as someone isn’t evil, he’s nice to them.” 

Scott thought about it a little, and then sighed. “Sad thing is, that’s still more respect than my mom ever got from my dad.”

“Okay, I’m going to change the subject. Tell me what happened with Jackson.” Stiles laughed. “Obviously, you liked it, if you’re openly bisexual now.” 

Scott flushed a little. “Um. So after Lydia closed the door, I made the first move and kissed him. And, you know, he did his big freak-out thing at first, but we kept trying, and…” Scott scratches at his chin, determinedly looking away from Stiles as his blush deepened. “I mean, we got a little carried away, but - like… we jerked each other off? A little?”

“Dude.” Stiles blurted. “A little? Like... uh, did either of you come?” 

A mortified noise escaped Scott’s throat. “Uh - I mean, like…” his voice got smaller and his words ran together quickly. “We both did when we…” he trailed off, gesturing with both hands. He frowned a little, and then did the gesture again, indicating a bumping and grinding motion.

“So, wait.” Stiles stopped walking and turned toward Scott. “So you were dry-humping in the closet and you both came?” 

Scott blinked at Stiles and then nodded slowly, once. And then made a face. “Or… at least I did. But, uh.” He started to grin a little bit. “He didn’t exactly look unhappy after we came out of the closet.” He looked startled, and then snorted out a loud laugh at his phrasing. 

Stiles laughed. “So, let’s review.” He murmured. “I figured out that wearing skirts is kind of interesting and three people I know figured out that they’re bisexual. Everyone is going to be talking about this on Monday.” 

“Yeah, probably.” Scott nodded his head again. “At least, you know, with the skirt thing? Other guys have figured it out, too? I mean, the Scots wear kilts, and I know it’s not exactly the same thing, but… a skirt is a skirt so if anyone gives you crap about it, you could cite history. Or, you know, just kick them in the balls, whatever.”

Stiles smiled. “It kind of makes me wonder what other stuff I would like.” He admitted. “But one thing at a time, and I have a lot of thinking to do about this whole thing with Allison.” 

“I mean… what is there to really think about?” Scott asked, furrowing his brows. “You kissed each other. It’s not like you, I don’t know, tripped and fell and shoved your tongue down her throat. You didn’t feel her up. And neither of you took advantage of the other.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked. “There are different ways that people - siblings, too - show their affection to each other, and all I’ve ever really seen you two do is hug. Maybe this kiss isn’t so much ‘oh crap now what do we do’ as it is, like… natural progression, you know? I’m not saying kiss her all the time now, but I think… kissing her cheek when you see each other after a long day, or when you’re saying goodbye, that’s normal. You guys hug when you have to go to different classes, and you hug when you meet up again, so…”

“It’s not...” Stiles sighed. “Maybe it’s how I’m feeling today, maybe it’s something else, but I’m not freaking out over this like it’s monumental. But it sort of is? I feel like I should have kissed her differently, but also probably not at all. It’s not like she’s said anything to me since I did it, and it was just a game, but that - it felt different. I feel like crap for even talking to you about it. I know you like her.” 

Scott smiled weakly, shrugging. “It’s not like it matters. She doesn’t like me like that. It’s not like she ever will, I mean… she’s made it pretty clear. But… I dunno, man. You kissed her, and it’s… odd, but I don’t think you really did anything wrong. It seems like it sometimes, because you’re together so often, but you aren’t actually related, you know?” 

“No, but our dads have been together for a long time, now. I mean, with Peter, too. And the amount of fights I got into about _that_ made my head spin. It’s a leap in logic, but if... if Allison and I pursued anything, that would make everything so much more awkward. Chris is a great guy, but he’s really particular about things. Not the most open-minded person. And my dad’s a close second. If it wasn’t for Peter, Allison and I would have probably been grounded for a solid year or two, for a lot of the shit we’ve done.” Stiles shook his head. “Anyway, that’s basically it. It was a quick kiss and I should definitely not be overthinking it.” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, and then shrugged a shoulder, sighing. “I mean, I guess you could be overthinking it, but what if it’s bothering you for a reason?”

“I think I’d rather talk about you and Jackson some more.” Stiles blurted. 

Scott smiled gently at his best friend. He knew what Stiles was doing, but he let him change the subject anyway. “There’s nothing going on with us.” He murmured. “Like… dry-humping and hand-jobs and kissing aside, it was a one-off, and it’s not going to happen again. Jackson likes Lydia. And while I think he’s a pretty good kisser, and while it’s occurred to me that doing stuff with guys is fun, it’s not like I’m looking at Jackson with hearts in my eyes and going ‘we’re gonna be together _forever_ ’ or something.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded, stopping at Scott’s front porch. “But I don’t think you went into that closet being entirely heterosexual and came out different. You even said that you thought that you and I would kiss at some point. So you’d thought about it. Not necessarily me, but other guys.” 

Scott considered that, tilting his head. “Yeah. I think maybe you’re right. Heck, maybe spending time around your house and watching your dad and Chris and Peter around each other had an influence on me, even.”

“Wha- dude, no. You can’t catch gay.” Stiles laughed. “Just unlock your freaking door already and let me in, so I can change out of this stuff. Please?” 

Scott opened the door, laughing. “I didn’t mean that I caught it from them, I meant that maybe they were a good influence on me. Maybe it was like you were saying, maybe I went into that closet with Jackson. It completely heterosexual, because I always felt like that, but being around your dads all the time was part of why I knew it was okay, you know?” He went into the house, toeing his shoes off. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Stiles smiled, walking into the house behind Scott. He crouched to unbuckle the straps on the dress shoes he was wearing, sighing as he slipped them off. “I’m not so sure I want to wear something this slutty again, but it was kind of hilarious.” 

Scott huffed out a laugh. “It was fantastic. You were awesome, dude.”

“Yeah, well, now I want to be awesome in pajamas.” Stiles grinned. “I’m sure I’ve got something over here, anyway.” He stood up straight and tugged the white thigh-high stockings off of his legs. “Is your mom asleep?” 

Scott nodded. “Yeah, she’s got a shift at five in the morning. Pretty sure she passed out, like, right after I left for the party.” He laughed. 

“Okay, then I’ll be quiet and probably hide this stuff in your room, so she doesn’t see it and get confused, in the morning.” Stiles muttered. “The idea of her screaming at you and waking you up because she thinks you brought a girl over is hilarious, though.” He paused. “Okay, I’m repeating my adjectives and that’s how I know I’m either tired or drunk.” 

Scott laughed, hugging Stiles tightly. “I love you, dude. Go to sleep.”

Stiles nodded and trudged up the stairs to Scott’s room, clutching his shoes and stockings. He untied the shirt and took it off, peeling the adhesive cups off of his skin and grimacing as he rubbed his chest. 

Scott followed him in and shucked the coat, shirt and jeans off until he was in his boxers. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he laughed. “You really went above and beyond for this.” He murmured, sitting down on the bed. “So… you said you were going to explain something about what Dean does?”

“Yeah.” Stiles pulled a shirt on, then changed out of the underwear and skirt, putting on a pair of pajama pants. “Don’t judge me.” He warned, sitting down carefully and sighing in relief. “I think I got the wrong size underwear. Anyway, yeah. Dean’s a hunter, but not the kind of hunter that goes after animals. He hunts werewolves and demons and other things. Ghosts and vampires. Stuff like that. And Allison’s parents do that sort of thing, too. She and I are trained, but we don’t have any actual experience because there’s nothing we can really do until I get my license. We’ve spent the past few years just studying everything. So that’s what Dean does, too. He goes around the country and gets rid of vengeful spirits and performs exorcisms.” 

Scott stared at Stiles for a long time, blinking rapidly. “What the hell.” He finally said. “What - Stiles, what the _hell_.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah. Well, when I was ten and Ally was eleven, her aunt kidnapped us both to try to get Chris and my dad to back off and give her leverage to get away with setting the Hale house on fire. It didn’t work out for her. Peter killed her, and Gerard got pissed off and decided he wasn’t going to give us back to our parents. He told us that my dad and Ally’s parents were dead, and that he was going to sell us to whoever gave him enough money. Dean sort of kidnapped us from Gerard, but not really, because he was bringing us home.” 

“That’s insane.” Scott murmured softly, shaking his head. “I mean… I’m glad Dean did that, obviously. But I can’t believe that Allison’s aunt would do that to you, or that her grandpa would either. He’s gone now, right? Isn’t he?”

“As far as I know, he is.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t mention him to Chris because then I don’t have to lie to my dad later on, if Chris admits to having Gerard murdered.” 

“What if your dad already knows about it?” Scott asked. “They’ve been together for years. Would Chris really keep a secret from him for that long?”

“I hope not.” Stiles mumbled. “But if I never ask, I never have to find out.” 

Scott rubbed a hand over Stiles’ shoulder gently. “I hope you don’t find out, either.” He said quietly. Leaning back, he curled up in bed and sighed, studying his best friend. “You and Allison have been through some really weird stuff together.”

“Yeah.” Stiles yawned. “Well, I guess I’ll know tomorrow if I’m being kicked out or sent to boarding school.” He snorted. 

“Why would that even happen?” Scott laughed. 

“Chris kinda freaked out about me wearing a skirt.” Stiles explained. “Not in a major way, but he wasn’t supportive. I mean, it’s okay. But once he knows that I’m planning to buy more skirts? He’s probably going to be worse.” 

“Your dad wouldn’t let him do anything to you, though.” Scott assured him. 

“It’s not - okay.” Stiles tried to think of how to tell Scott what he was thinking. “My dad is happy. He wasn’t happy for awhile, and Chris and Peter changed that. If me being how I am is going to cause problems in their relationship, then I don’t mind going. It would upset my dad to not have me home, but I’d still talk to him.” 

“And I’m sure you’d still talk to me, and to Lydia, and to Peter, and to Allison, too, but it wouldn’t be the same, dude.” Scott looked at him, blinking guilessly. “And frankly, if Chris has enough of a problem with you wearing skirts and dresses that he tries to talk your dad into sending you away, he’s going to have a fight on his hands because I think Allison might knock him out.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, she probably would.”

Scott watched Stiles for a bit, studying him thoughtfully. “I know you probably really don’t want to talk about it, so I’m not going to keep pushing you about it. But… I think she’d do anything for you, dude. I don’t think it matters what happens between you.”

“That’s just it, though. If she thought that she was just doing what I wanted... I’m not saying she’s weak, she’d never be weak.” Stiles muttered. “I just think that if I asked her anything, she’d go along because I know how I get, and she knows, too. Pissing me off is the last thing she’d want, and if she even thought for a second that I’d stop talking to her, it would crush her. So she’d go along.” 

“Maybe I don’t know her as well as you do.” Scott murmured. “But maybe she wouldn’t. I mean… she had no problem telling me that she didn’t want me, and we’re friends. She grew up with you - if you asked her to do something she didn’t want, I’d kind of like to think that she’d tell you flat out that she didn’t want it.” He sighed. “But you’re right. She probably would be devastated if she thought that pissing you off would stop you from talking to her.”

“I’ll have to talk to her tomorrow.” Stiles murmured. “For now, I just want to go to sleep.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, I do, too.” He murmured. He shifted onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, shifting over a little to make sure that Stiles had room. “Good night, bro.”


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles smiled to himself as he looked through a rack of dresses, the next day. It had occurred to him, as he got ready to go to the store, that he had six people he saw as parental figures. It wasn’t helping him sort through what he may or may not feel for Allison, thinking of Chris as being one of his parents; but it gave him a little more clarity in other aspects of his life. While the three men in the store were like his dads, biologically or otherwise, he thought of Victoria, Melissa and Talia as surrogate moms. He wondered why he hadn’t asked them for help, instead. 

John came up next to him, pressing his hands to Stiles’ shoulders with a small smile. “You seeing anything you like, kid?” He asked, his eyes trailing over the dresses Stiles was looking at. “Are you looking for anything specific? I don’t know what the hell I’m looking at, but I can make Peter come over and help.”

Stiles laughed. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue what the hell I’m doing. I probably should’ve asked Victoria or Lydia. They’re good at this. Uh, no offense.” 

“None taken. Who do you think picked out half my clothes for me?” John smiled crookedly. “If it were up to me, I’d have probably just lazed around the house in nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants. Your mom was the one with taste.”

“How long do you think I can stand here before Chris starts grumbling?” Stiles grinned. 

“About fifteen minutes ago.” John snorted. “He started up as soon as you walked over here. I told him to shut the hell up.”

Stiles picked up a red dress with varsity stripes on the sleeves, then grabbed a green one in the same style. He walked over to a rack of skirts, glancing back at Peter and Chris before he decided to stand there for a little while, doing absolutely nothing. 

John snorted out a laugh, moving with Stiles and pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “That’s my kid. Torture him a little more, he needs to get used to this.”

“Why do you say that?” Stiles blinked. “You’re not planning to adopt a younger daughter, are you?” 

“No?” John blinked back at him. “No, I mean, if you want to dress in dresses and skirts, he needs to get used to it. I’m fully aware that he’s awkward about it, and that he can be a jackass about it, too.” 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles murmured. “If I’m causing problems, I... I can figure out something.” 

“Hey, no.” John reached for Stiles, cupping his son’s face. “You are not causing problems, you understand me? You’re supposed to be feeling yourself out, finding out who you are, experimenting with what makes you comfortable. You don’t make apologies to anyone for that, alright? Especially not to Chris - I love him, but I love you most. Okay? There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, and there’s nothing for you to figure out.”

“But you’re happy.” Stiles frowned. “I don’t want to ruin that, not even a little.” 

“You know what would make me more unhappy?” John asked gently. “If my boyfriend made my son feel like he had to fix things that don’t need fixed for me to be happy. Stiles, Chris means a lot to me, I’m not denying that. But you’re everything to me. I would never compromise what you mean to me for Chris.”

“Not even if I was -” Stiles sighed. “Nevermind. I’ll just try to hurry.” He turned back to the rack of skirts and grabbed a black one, then picked up a pair of khaki shorts from a nearby table. He wanted to get more things, but he felt guilty for taking as long as he already had, so he walked over to the checkout counter. 

John followed silently, glancing back over his shoulder at Peter and Chris with pursed lips. ‘Fix this _now_.’ He mouthed at Chris. 

Chris glanced over at Peter. “What did I miss?” 

“Stiles is concerned that your… unwelcome reaction to the way he dressed yesterday is causing conflict between yourself and John.” Peter replied. “He doesn’t want to ‘ruin’ things between you, and he’s prepared to ‘figure things out,’ which I can only take to mean that he’s expecting you to end up convincing John into kicking him out of the house.”

“Goddammit.” Chris got up, walking over to the counter and looking at Stiles. “I’ve been dating your dad for five years.” 

“Yeah. I know.” Stiles mumbled. 

“So where would you get the idea, in these past five years, that I would be the kind of person who would treat you with anything but respect?” Chris demanded. 

“We’re doing this.” Stiles took a deep breath. “Okay. You’re the enforcer in the house.” When Chris only gave him a blank look, he continued. “Dad’s in charge of stopping crime in the town, Peter handles stuff for his family, and you take care of things in the house. You’re the one who makes sure we follow the rules and you decide what those rules are. When you’re out of town... shit, I’m about to throw everybody under the bus, but I’m just trying to explain. We eat dinner in the living room and Ally and I stay up until two o’clock in the morning, if we want. And then you come home and we’re in bed by eleven, and all of our meals are in the dining room. You’re the enforcer and you don’t like what I’m doing here, and you don’t want to be here while I’m buying things that you think are going to get me attacked by someone. And I appreciate that you’re worried. But I think your real problem is that you just don’t like it. Last night, the only person who had anything negative to say about me was also treating Allison like crap, and I handled it. I was handling people treating me like crap when I was eight, before you came along. I was handling it when I was in middle school and didn’t want to tell you every time someone shoved me into a locker or tripped me. Or just started shit, in general.” 

“So all of a sudden, I’m a problem.” Chris muttered. 

“No!” Stiles shook his head. “God, this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything.” 

Peter gripped Chris’ elbow. “You’re a grown man.” He said quietly. “You need to act like it. He isn’t saying these things because he has anything against you, for God’s sake. He never said you were a problem. He’s saying that he’s completely capable of taking care of himself without feeling the need to run to you for every little problem he has.”

“I was also saying that if you’re uncomfortable, I could just move back into my old house.” Stiles blurted. “Because I don’t want you to have to feel like that. It’s not like I’d never come over.” 

“You’re not doing that.” Chris shook his head. “I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t like that you’re doing this.” He gestured to the clothes Stiles was buying. “But you’re the one wearing them and you’re the one who will have to deal with it when other people aren’t kind about it.” He glanced at Peter and John. “I have to go do something else. I’ll meet you at the car.” He walked away. 

Peter stared after him for a moment, and then turned to Stiles, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, heathen?” He asked affectionately. 

Stiles took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m fine.” He turned back to the counter, paying for the clothes he had picked out for himself and picking up the bag.

John glanced at Peter, and then back at Stiles. “Come on, kiddo.” He murmured. “Is there anything else you need that we can get for you? Any new video games you want?”

“Any new weapons or anthologies?” Peter chimed in. “We can stop by the occult store, if you like. I’ve been meaning to progress your training while Dean’s been gone. How do you feel about using sais?”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth. “I don’t want you to do that just because of this.” He shook his head. “Talk to me about it later?” 

Peter studied him for a moment. “Fine, but I’ll have you know that I _have_ been planning on sneaking you out of the house to buy weapons.” He paused and glanced sideways at John, clearing his throat. “After I told your father what I was doing, of course. It just so happens that it also would have worked as an excellent distraction and I refuse to feel a little bad for trying to use it as such.” He nodded. 

John raised an eyebrow at Peter. “Go sit in the car.”

Stiles laughed. “Thank you.” He told Peter, then looked at his dad. “I’m still sorry.” 

John smiled gently and gave him a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know. And I still maintain that you don’t need to be, but that’s okay. I’m sorry if anything I’ve ever done over the years has ever made you feel like this.”

“No, you haven’t.” Stiles shook his head. “I think I’ll have someone else come with me for anything else, though. It was kind of funny to aggravate Chris, but it’s not funny at all, now. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m trying to be respectful of the fact that he’s not okay with me right now and he might not be for a long time, if ever. He has his reasons. I know that. But I’m still more worried about messing things up for you. He can say all he wants that he’s not going to - to leave, but, um...” He bit his lip. “I just don’t want to make him have to go back on his word.” 

“If he does, it’s not because you made him do it.” John told him gently. “In the end, it will always be his decision, and if he goes back on it, that’s on him.” His eyes were kind. “You have never, and will never, mess anything up for me. Except for when you go through my desk for case files.”

“Look, you’re not supposed to discuss those things with me, so if I happen to read them without your permission, you’re not breaking any rules.” Stiles smiled. “How’s that thing going with the arson frat boys, anyway?” 

John groaned. “They’re locked up, and their parents have been alerted. I’m kind of thinking the parents are going to let them sit in the cells and rot for awhile. Just my opinion.”

“So if I happened to wander in there and get lost on my way to the bathroom, and tell them a story about the last person in this town who tried to commit arson, that would just be a public service, right?” Stiles asked. 

John grinned crookedly. “If I don’t see it on camera, I think it can be considered a public service, sure.”

“Will it help or hinder if you bring me in for show and tell?” Peter asked, his eyes glinting sharply. 

“I don’t know.” Stiles smiled. “I guess we could just find out.” 

Peter spun to look at John expectantly. “Can we find out please?”

“Well, don’t ask me.” John snorted. “Don’t say a word. If I don’t know it’s happening, I can deny, deny, deny, and you two will be home free.”

Stiles’ smile widened. “You know, tonight is Mischief Night.” He murmured. “And I have new clothes I want to wear.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I think I’m gonna need to go home and change before I go anywhere else.” 

“I think I’m going to look into wigs. Stiles, would you be interested in wearing a wig? Or hair extensions?” Peter told him.

“You’re still talking about this in front of me.” John shook his head. “I’m losing the ability to deny the more you talk, Peter.”

“Walk away, Dad.” Stiles grinned. He turned toward Peter. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that stuff, or if I ever will be. For now, I just like the clothes. But I’m not ruling anything out. Maybe while we’re shopping for other things, I could look at suits? I don’t have one and I should probably fix that.” 

Peter’s eyes lit up. “I can absolutely help with that.” He told Stiles, nodding. 

**

Stiles finished putting away most of his new clothes, keeping the black skirt and a green polo shirt out. He changed into them, putting a pair of black tennis shoes on and wondering if he should bother with lip gloss again, like he had the night before. After a few more minutes of deliberation, he changed into a pair of jeans and one of his favorite t-shirts, then went down the hall to Allison’s room and knocked. 

Allison opened the door and poked her head out, and then smiled when she saw him. “Hi!”

“Hey.” Stiles grinned, relieved. “Can I talk to you for a minute? I’m supposed to go somewhere with Peter, but it’s not an emergency or anything.” 

Allison stepped back from her door to let him into her room. “Come inside.” She told him. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk about last night.” Stiles said quietly. “You didn’t say much of anything and I kind of had my head explode, so... are we okay?” 

Allison closed the door behind him and moved to sit down on her bed. “Of course we’re okay.” She assured him. “We’ll always be okay, no matter what. I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too.” Stiles murmured. He sat down beside her. “Your dad doesn’t like me wearing skirts.” He blurted. “I offered to move out, but Dad and Peter, and your dad too, actually? They all said I don’t need to do that.” 

“You don’t.” Allison murmured back, taking his hand in hers. “It’s not your fault that my dad doesn’t like the way you want to dress. And if he doesn’t want to understand it or whatever, that’s all on him. You keep doing what you’re doing, yeah?” She leaned against him, brushing her shoulder against his. “Do what makes you happy, and don’t worry about what Dad thinks, or what Matt Daehler thinks - I know you don’t, I’m just making a point in general - or what anyone else thinks of you, okay?” She looked up at him. “You looked amazing. And more to the point, you looked happy. That’s what matters.”

Stiles grinned, but he glanced away, getting choked up. “It’s just...” He muttered. “I did. I really did like it. I don’t know how I feel about that, but I bought a couple of dresses and a skirt and a pair of shorts. And then because, uh, I didn’t want... I don’t want a closet full of girly clothes and I wasn’t going to buy underwear with everyone staring at me. I got a suit for school dances or whatever else I might need it for.” 

“We should look online.” Allison told him. “I’m sure there are sites available for the types of clothes that’ll fit you right.” She looked sympathetic, her eyes gentle as she smiled at him. “I know whatever underwear you were wearing during the party could not have been comfortable for you.” She squeezed his hand. “If there’s anything you want to look up, or buy, I’ll help you. You know I will, I’ll drop everything in a heartbeat. Lydia would, too.”

“Thank you.” Stiles smiled crookedly, rubbing his eyes when he realized he was crying a little. “I didn’t even expect that it would be like this. It’s like - well, sort of like Scott figuring out that he likes guys.” He laughed. “Just came out of nowhere.” 

Allison laughed softly. “Yeah, but… I don’t know. Like, I kind of think that the most important things, the best things? Those are the ones you don’t see coming.”

Stiles wondered if somewhere, a god was laughing at him. “Right.” He nodded. 

Allison huffed out another soft laugh, pushing her shoulder against his. “You sound so confident,” she teased. “Like you really believe me.”

“I just think that maybe sometimes, the obvious thing might be right in front of you?” Stiles murmured. 

Allison tilted her head thoughtfully. “Yeah.” She murmured, nodding. “I can see that. So… maybe it’s both, then. Maybe the best things are unexpected, but they’ve been in front of you all along?”

Stiles thought about just kissing her, or at least telling her that he wanted to know how she felt, but Chris had reacted so badly to the person Stiles was becoming, and he couldn’t stomach the idea of making that worse for everyone in the house. Despite what everyone else said, he knew what he was capable of when he was angry, and he was more determined to keep feeling guilty, instead. “I should go, or Peter’s going to leave without me.” 

“Oh, okay.” Allison nodded in reply, looking a bit disappointed. She leaned in to hug him, resting her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh. “Next time you make plans to go out, invite me, okay? I’d love to come with you, whatever you’re doing.”

Stiles put his arms around Allison. “We could go see a movie later, if you want to?” He suggested, biting his lip because it sounded like a date, even though they had just gone to see _Easy A_ a month earlier, and it had just been two sort-of siblings watching something without their other friends around because Lydia was getting her hair done and Scott had to work at the clinic. 

Allison lifted her head to smile up at him. “I’d like that.” She agreed. Lifting her head had placed her face fairly close to his, and she seemed to realize that a second later when she blushed and shifted away. Despite maintaining that they would always be okay - and she knew they were - things had changed, and it would be stupid of her to ignore it, to pretend that a kiss between them hadn’t happened. There was a twisty feeling in her stomach when she thought about it (and she had done a _lot_ of thinking about it since last night), but it didn’t make her agitated, or grossed out. It just made her want try it again. “So… uh, later today, then? Maybe around seven?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him. He stood up. “Uh, maybe bring a purse with snacks, so we don’t have to pay stupid prices for the same stuff we can get somewhere else?” 

Allison snorted out a laugh, nodding. “Oh, god, yeah, absolutely. You know I heard that the theater doesn’t even actually care if you sneak snacks in? They want you to buy their stuff, yeah, but they don’t actually give a crap if you sneak your own stuff in. I kind of want to walk in with my purse wide open and revealing ten different candy packages and bottles of soda, just to test it.”

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, and then we’ll end up in an actual fight sequence of our own, with ushers and cashiers who think that a little bit of power means they rule the planet.” He shrugged. “I say go for it.” 

Allison beamed at him. “I’ll grab the biggest bag I have.” She promised.

After a few more seconds, Stiles realized that he hadn’t even responded, he was just smiling at Allison. “Uh. I have to go.” He gestured toward her bedroom door, then started walking toward it. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” 

Allison gazed after him, her own smile still lingering on her face. She blinked, and belatedly replied, “Okay! I’ll be here. And if I’m not, it’s because I’m buying candy.”

“Get Twizzlers!” Stiles called over his shoulder. “Red Vines are garbage!” 

“Duh!” Allison laughed.

Stiles was grinning as he went down the stairs, looking around for Peter. “Okay, I’m ready to go. I decided not to do the skirt thing because it felt like it was too much.” 

Peter looked him up and down, and then nodded. “Alright, then. Did you want to make any stops for any show and tell items first? Other than me?”

“No, not that I can think of. And I’m a little disappointed that I can’t conjure fire like people in movies can. But you probably wouldn't want to deal with that, anyway. Let’s just go, I’ll improvise when we get there.” Stiles glanced at Peter. “Unless you can think of something?” 

Peter grimaced. “I can think of several things, but none that are viable in a room with a cell that’s outfitted by a security camera that your father can peek in on if he suspects I’m doing things I’m not supposed to be doing.” He admitted, shaking his head. He gestured toward the door. “Let’s just go ahead and go. I’m better at coming up with things on the fly than actually making plans. Those always seem to backfire spectacularly on me for some reason.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” Stiles muttered. “Not that spontaneity does me any good, either. But it’s marginally better. Like, fifteen percent.” 

Peter snorted, heading toward the door. “Fifteen percent is still better than the big fat zero I usually end up with.”

Stiles followed behind him. “I think you have a better success rate than you’re willing to give yourself credit for.” 

“What makes you say that?” Peter asked, glancing at him over his shoulder. He unlocked the doors to his car before dropping into the driver’s seat.

Stiles got into the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt. “I don’t know where this bout of self-deprecation is coming from.” He remarked. “I know you well enough to know that you’re not just posturing and trying to get compliments, and if you were, I’d probably smack you.” He snorted. “Even though I know that’s definitely not the right response and my dad would ground me for a year. But you’ve done a lot of good things. You’re the reason we live here instead of all being crowded into the house my mom was in, and I know you also had a big role in us not selling that house. You saved your family from being murdered. You probably could have made fun of me yesterday, since that’s kind of what we do? But you didn’t. I appreciate that, you know? I’m kind of drifting, right now. I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like everything is supposed to be easy, but nothing is, and I don’t understand that, either. Even a year ago, I knew what I wanted or who I wanted, and I’d just say what I was thinking and it was fine. Or maybe not fine, since my mouth always gets me into trouble. It’s just that now, everything has a consequence. I’m not normal. Or what society says is normal. I never have been. And if you’re having trouble, then maybe it’ll never get any easier for me? You don’t have half of the - you’re not on Adderall and you have a lot more self-control than I do, and yeah, you have this whole secret thing of your own...” He paused. “Maybe we’re a lot more alike than I even thought.” 

Peter huffed out a laugh, gazing back at Stiles. “I could’ve told you that. Years ago, even.” He stared out the front windshield, thinking silently. “I do have my secrets. Some that I still haven’t even told your dad. Not because I don’t trust him, you know, but it’s, ah. Difficult to explain.” He shook his head. “I might have my shit together enough to fool people, but Stiles, honestly, you’re a lot stronger than me. To go head to head with Chris about the way he was acting, even while you care about each other, that was brave. There are a lot of issues in my head that… well. I’m not quite that brave. Remember, you had to talk me into walking into your house to approach your father and Chris in the first place.”

“I know you’re not that much older than me. Younger than Dean by about a year.” Stiles admitted. “And your family tree is enormous.” He grimaced. “I know it’s probably an invasion of privacy, but I got curious. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me, either. I know that when my dad had some trouble coping, after my mom died, I got kind of ignored. I don’t blame him for it. Well, not always. Sometimes I think back and get a little annoyed. I figure a house with twenty kids made it easy for somebody to get overlooked at some point, and maybe some kids got overlooked a lot?” He glanced at Peter, wondering if he was right. “I haven’t said anything to my dad about it, either. I’ve watched Talia make enough dinner for a small army and it made a lot more sense how she was able to do that so easily, once I found out how many other kids were in your family.” He knew he was pressing harder than he should have, but he kept talking, anyway. “And the night of the fire, there were a lot less than twenty adults there. And you don’t talk about them, ever. So... I guess your family doesn’t get along that well?” 

Peter started driving again, letting out a slow breath. “I’m the youngest of twenty kids. Four of them are legally dead, one of them disappeared to who knows where, one of them disowned this family - or was disowned, I never got a clear story on that - and one of them lives a very happy life in Massachusetts with her wife. We still call and visit. And those are just the siblings I’m aware of. My parents both died in nineteen-ninety-nine, and good riddance to the both of them. Um…” He trailed off, looking away from Stiles. “I was born… basically as a last ditch effort to be an alpha’s stud. And I don’t mean that like, ‘I’m so attractive.’ I mean that… in the way that horse breeders mean it.”

Stiles’ mouth opened in surprise. “Well, that’s gross.” He remarked. “But you’re okay, right? You’re with my dad and Ally’s dad, and you’re happy?” 

Peter finally looked back at him, then gave Stiles a small smile. “I’m happy. Believe me, I am. And I’m okay… for a given value of okay. My parents didn’t get their way, they’re out of my life, and I got what - and who - I wanted.” He leaned back in his seat as he slowed down at a red light. “Remember in the Harry Potter books we read? The Black family? Hell, the Malfoys, and all the other pureblood families? My parents were of the same sort. ‘Keep the line pure,’ ‘don’t mate with humans,’ ‘We’re Hales, and born werewolves besides, we’re better than everyone else.’ My father married my mother and took her name solely because of the weight it held - I doubt they ever loved each other, or ever felt anything but duty to each other. Talia was the oldest girl born. By rights, she was the one that was set to inherit my mother’s alpha power, but my father thought he could change it. He thought we’d been a matriarchal family for too long. He’d already changed his name for my mother, why did he need to wait for his only daughter at the time to get older and be capable of becoming an alpha?” He glanced at Stiles. “He wanted the power to go to my older brothers - it wouldn’t work that way, obviously, only my mother could decide who to give the power to, and she was dead set on giving it to Talia whether she wanted to or not. But all of my oldest brothers died, one way or another, for believing in the same stupid things my parents both believed in, for believing that nothing could touch them, not even hunters, solely because they were Hales. Obviously, they were wrong.”

“But when you were born...” Stiles blinked. “Never mind. There’s no point in even trying to understand it. Hey, are the Duggars werewolves?” 

“No. I don’t think so?” Peter grimaced as he started to drive again. “I could be wrong. Mostly I believe they’re just… very strange human beings.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, you’re not wrong about that. I won’t tell anyone any of this, by the way. I’m glad you told me, though.” 

“I’m glad I did, too.” Peter murmured. “Talia and I don’t talk about it. We don’t like to. And… Lily’s got her own life, away from here. Tommy and Mike are just… gone. You’d think they would have come back once my parents were dead, once Tally was alpha, but…” He shrugged and slowed down at the Sheriff’s station, pulling into the parking lot and taking a spot. “There we go.”

“You can talk to me about anything.” Stiles unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, smiling to himself as he thought about the last couple of days. It seemed daunting, but he knew he would be okay. 

Peter got out of the car as well, rounding it to squeeze Stiles’ shoulder tightly. “And the same goes for you, alright? Anything at all. Anytime.”

“Thanks.” Stiles hugged Peter, then went into the building, relieved that he had decided not to wear a skirt, after all. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than he already got, just by being the son of the Sheriff. 

Peter glanced at each corner of the first room to spot where the cameras were, and then gave a cheeky little wave at each of them before he put his hand on Stiles’ upper back and guided them both toward the jail cells.

Stiles felt relieved that he didn’t recognize the guys in the cell. Somehow, knowing them would have made things worse. “You know you’re idiots, right?” He leaned against the opposite wall, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at them. 

“Excuse me? I know you’re not talking to me.” One of them smirked. “Besides, what are you, like, thirteen?” 

“Big words from someone stuck in a cage.” Stiles retorted. “I just thought I’d give you a lesson on fire safety, since you’re not going anywhere, any time soon.” 

“That’s the Sheriff’s kid,” a second teen snorted. “Of course, he thinks he’s a cop, too.” 

Stiles shook his head, standing up straight. “No. I know I’m not a cop. Cops have to follow rules. I’m not bound by that.” 

“Neither am I.” Peter murmured, moving up to stand behind Stiles. He tilted his head slowly to the side, his eyes narrowing at the boys. “Shut your mouths and listen.” His eyes glinted. “Unless you’d like me to shut them for you.”

“You can’t talk to us like that!” The first boy protested. 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Peter and grinned. “I think we just met Beacon Hills’ own version of Draco Malfoy.” 

Peter snorted. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is your father going to hear about this?”

“Yes?” The teen looked confused. “I mean, he knows I’m here...” 

“Oh my god, if you would just read a book instead of starting fires.” Stiles muttered. “Okay, I think you three might actually be too fucking stupid to understand what I was going to tell you, so I’ll just summarize it. ‘Arson is wrong.’ Got that? Repeat it, so I know you’re listening.” 

The third boy, who’d been quiet up until that point, stared straight at Stiles, and then leaned back. “Fuck yourself.”

Peter stared back at him, letting out a low laugh. “I’m sorry, you seem to have a hearing problem, kid. You’ll want to listen a bit harder and repeat it again.”

The teen smirked at Peter, raising his middle finger at the older man. “Fuck. Yourself.” He repeated. “And the little bitch you’re with can listen a bit harder to what I said, too.”

“You know, it would be kind of awesome if I could just... ‘accio moron,’ and...” Stiles squeaked in surprise when the third arsonist practically slid toward the bars of the cell. “Dude.” 

Peter stared at the teen silently for a moment, and then looked at Stiles. “Do it again and see if you can aim his head toward the bars.”

“Accio...” Stiles licked his lips, thinking. “Sorry, I’m just - accio dumbass?” 

The second teen - the Malfoy wannabe - flew forward with a terrified screech, banging into the metal bars of the cell with a loud ‘oof’. He fell back and stared dazedly up at the ceiling.

Peter grinned, sharklike. “Very nice.”

“Yeah, except I was just joking the first time and I have no idea how that worked. Pretty sure I’m not a wizard. I never got a letter from Hogwarts, anyway.” Stiles muttered. 

“We’ll look into it.” Peter replied. “Let’s wrap this up, yeah?”

“Okay.” Stiles moved closer to the bars, but stayed out of reach of the guys inside the cell. “If any of you try to start another fire, ever, and that includes lighting a cigarette? I’ll find you. And you’ll be wishing the cops got to you first.” 

The first teen let out a whimper, his eyes locked on his friends. “I won’t - I won’t - I -”

Peter cut him off, looking annoyed. “Shut up and do what you’re told. We don’t need to hear you say that you won’t do it again. We’ll be watching you. Believe me - we’ll know.”

Stiles walked back out through the station, looking over at Peter as soon as they got outside. “I have no idea what the hell that was.” 

“Neither do I, but I’m not complaining. I think we will look into getting you some help, though.” Peter studied Stiles thoughtfully. “At the very least, we can try and find a magic user to train you, but I’m not sure that what just happened was conventional magic.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Stiles blurted. “Maybe we should ignore it. I think it could’ve been a fluke.” He knew that he was wrong, even as he said it. “I have a lot of other things to deal with, and I don’t want to add to the list right now.” 

“Okay, okay.” Peter murmured, holding up a hand. “We won’t look into it. For now, at least.”

“Thank you.” Stiles felt sick to his stomach. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to - to have that kind of control over people. I don’t want it.” 

Peter stopped walking and wrapped his arm around Stiles, tugging the boy closer to him. “It’s okay.” He murmured. “It’s alright, Stiles. We don’t have to pursue this at all, if you don’t want to. We can forget that it even happened.”

“Good, because that’s what I want.” Stiles nodded. 

“Alright.” Peter murmured. “Do you want it permanently removed, or do you just want to shove it into the back recesses of your brain, never to see daylight?”

“I - oh.” Stiles grinned at Peter. “Uh, just forgotten. Not taken away.” 

Peter snorted out a laugh. “Alright. We can make a pit stop to see my sister. She can bury it so deep you’ll never know it was ever there.”


End file.
